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FROM    IHK    I.IBKAkV 


iM-^.     FRANCIS     l.lLr.i.K, 
.i-.>-or  of  History  Jtrd  Lnw  in  C<'Iiinibin  Ci-Ht'iro,  Now  Y<i 

i  UK    GIKT    OK 

^'MICHAEL     REESE, 

1S73. 


\nA 


PSYCH. 


HUMAl^TICS. 


BY 


T.  WHARTON  COLLINS,  ESQ., 

PBOFESSOE  OF    "  POLITICAL   PIIILOSOPnY,"   TTNIVEESITY   OF   LOUISIANA,     EX-PEKSIDIN(i 
JUDGE   CITY   COURT  OF  NEW  ORLEANS,  ETC. 


"  The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  Man." 


NEW  YORK: 

D.  APPLE TON  AND  COMPANY, 

846  &  34S  BEOADWAT. 

LONDON:  10  LITTLE  BRITAIN. 

1860. 


EDUC. 

PSYCH. 

LIMABY 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S60,  by 

D.  APPLETON   &  COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 

I 


CONTENT.S. 
— *— 

PAGE 

PROLOGUE, 1 

VITALITY, 15 

SENSATION, G9 

EMOTION, 110 

THOUGHT, 173 

ACTION, 328 

RETROSPECT, 353 


Vegetality     or 


-    Animality  or 


r  Existence 
Alimentiveness 
Approbativeness 
Cautiousness 
Combativcness 
Secretiveness 
Acquisitiveness 
Destructivenoss 
rhiloprogenitiveness 
Inhabitiveness 
Adhesiveness 
Constancy 
Amativeness 
Constructiveness 


Motion 

Weight 

Eesistance 

Change 

Connection 
Substance 

Extension 

Locality 

Form 

Severalty 
Quality 

Density 

Savor 

Color,  &c. 

Sound  and  Tune 

Odor 


Yitativeness      1 


I"  Humanality  o: 


Hope 

"Watchfulness 

Conscientiousness 

Firmness 

Intent 
Faith 

Veneration 

Marvellousness 

Sublimity 

Ideality 
Charity 

Imitation 

Sympathy 

Joyousness 

Lanffuasre 


Quantity 
Relation 
Mode 
Order 
Progress 


Selfishness 


r    SCIENCK 


Causality 
Eventuality 


Comparison 


Individuality 


.   rt  -; 


Truth 


Beauty 


'  Morality 


-  Utility 


of  Xature 

of  Self 
of  Society 
of  the  Soul 
of  God 


^  ACTION 


p  in  Arts 
I   in  Economy 
{   in  Politics 
in  Morals 
in  Eftligion 


1.  Absorption    .ind 

Involution 

2.  Bespiration 

3.  Ingestion 

*.  Circulation 

5.  ABsimiUtion  and 

1  Functional  Orgunism    1 

Growth 

^y 

\                                      ^                    [oT 

G.  Evolution 

(  Sympntlietic  Novves     ) 

7.  Exhalation 

S.  Secretion        nntl 

Excretion 
9.  Qcncration     and 

Keproduction 
10.  Dormancy      and 

Death 

5 

Touch 

^ 

Tnsti; 

Love  of  Doing 
Love  of  Knowing 
.  Love  of  Speaking 


Ideation 

Definition 

Proposition 


■  Humanality  or  Thought,  I 


(1.  Xumeratlon 
2.  Addition  and 

I      MoltipUcafn 

■j  3.  Subtraction 
and  Division 
4.  deduction 

[5.  Ratio 


Association 

Synthesis 

Analysis 

CInssiflcation 

Abstraction 

Induction 

Generalization 

Deduction 

Inference 

Reflexion 

COMPrTATIO- 


Consciousness  of 


.  Properties 
Contents 
Process 


Existence 

Aliment!  vencss 

Apprnbativenef 

Cautiousness 

Combutivonesa 

Secretiveness 

Dpstructivcnt-ss 
Philoprogenitiv 
Inhabitiveness 
Adhesiveness 
Constancy 
Amativeness 
■  Construclivenes 


Resistance 

Change 

ConnectioD 
Substance 

Extension 

Locality 

Form 

Severalty 
Quality 

Density 

Color.  Vkc. 
Sound  and  Tunc 
Odor 


'  Hope 

Watch  fnlness 
Conscientious! 
Firmness 

Faith 
Veneration 
Marvellousnes 
Sublimity 
Ideality 

Charity 
Imitation 
Sympathy 

Language 


r  Quantity 
j       Relation 
j       Mode 
Order 
L     Progi-eM 


r  of  Nature 
of  Self 
of  Society 
of  the  Soul 
of  God 


I    Causality 
Eventuality 


[  Truth 


f  la  Arts 
i    in  Economy 
J   in  Politics 
in  Murals 
L  in  E^Iigion 


HTJMANICS. 


PEOLOGUE. 

"The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  Man." 

At  the  beginning  of  European  Pliilosopliy,  (whether 
we  start  from  the  seven  sages,  or  from  Pythagoras,) 
"Know  thyself"  w-as  the  precept  first  given  in  charge 
to  man  ;  and,  from  that  day  to  this,  the  injunction  has 
been  ever  reiterated,  and  its  wisdom  has  always  been 
admitted. 

Has  the  precept  been  obeyed?  In  aspiration  it 
has,  if  not  in  realization ;  for  every  struggle  of  philoso- 
phy has  been  to  obtain  a  more  distinct  conception  of 
human  nature  and  destiny.  Indeed,  philosophy,  from 
its  origin  to  this  day,  has  been  but  an  effort  to  solve 
the  problem  of  man's  moral,  intellectual,  and  social  con- 
stitution— an  attempt  to  make  the  ethical  and  rational 
elements  of  humanity,  when  once  discovered,  subser- 


HUMANICS. 


PEOLOGUE. 

"  The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  Man." 

At  the  beginning  of  European  Pliilosopliy,  (whether 
we  start  from  the  seven  sages,  or  from  Pythagoras,) 
"Know  thyself"  was  the  precept  first  given  in  charge 
to  man  ;  and,  from  that  day  to  this,  the  injunction  has 
been  ever  reiterated,  and  its  wisdom  has  always  been 
admitted. 

Has  the  precept  been  obeyed?  In  aspiration  it 
has,  if  not  in  realization ;  for  every  struggle  of  philoso- 
phy has  been  to  obtain  a  more  distinct  conception  of 
human  nature  and  destiny.  Indeed,  philosophy,  from 
its  origin  to  this  day,  has  been  but  an  effort  to  solve 
the  problem  of  man's  moral,  intellectual,  and  social  con- 
stitution— an  attempt  to  make  the  ethical  and  rational 
elements  of  humanity,  when  once  discovered,  subser- 


2  HUMANICS. 

vient  to  humanity's  progress.  In  reading  the  books  of 
the  founders  and  expounders  of  the  systems,  theories, 
and  schools  of  philosophy  which  have  been  before  the 
world,  we  find  them  all  devoted  mainly  to  the  discus- 
sion of  man's  sensation,  sentiment,  reason,  and  action. 
Every  point  is  investigated :  searching  and  deep  analy- 
sis, encircling  and  archcasting  synthesis,  inventive  and 
fanciful  analogy,  have  been  called  to  the  aid  of  wisdom 
and  genius  seeking  to  know  if  man  is  the  mere  recipient 
of  sensation  and  impression,  or  the  glorious  radiator  of 
a  light  within.  Wherever  divergence  or  contradiction 
is  possible,  modified  and  opposite  opinions  break  forth ; 
and  the  products  are  the  theories  of  the  Presentationists 
and  Representationists,  Unitists  and  Dualists,  Material- 
ists and  Idealists,  Absolutists  and  ^Nihilists. 

Thus  far,  philosophy  has  hardly  dared  to  assume 
any  other  name  than  the  one  its  founder  modestly 
adopted  to  express  a  candid  confession  of  incertitude, 
and  a  sincere  desire  of  knowledge.  The  philosopher 
even  at  this  day  contents  himself  with  being  designated 
"  a  lover  of  wisdom ;  "  and  difiidently  asserts  the  exist- 
ence of  the  science  of  "  HumanicsP 

Yet  Humanics  should  be  permitted  to  erect  a  school 
in  the  field  of  knowledge  ;  for,  if  no  complete  and  per- 
manent edifice  can  as  yet  be  raised,  suflicient  materials 
are  nevertheless  on  hand  to  begin  the  work  of  con- 
structing a  "  Science  of  Human  J^ature." 

But  if  we  erect  Humanics  into  a  science,  what 
would  be  left  to  Philosophy? 


PROLOGUE.  3 

Much,  very  much ;  and  indeed  a  concession  of  ter- 
ritory to  Humanics,  instead  of  injuring  Philosophy 
would  leave  her  in  the  clear  and  undisputed  possession 
of  her  great  and  legitimate  domain ;  and  her  true 
object  and  supreme  scope,  heretofore  clouded,  would 
plainly  appear. 

Literally,  the  word  Philosophy  means  the  love  of 
wisdom ;  but,  in  its  full  sense,  it  means  the  science  of 
universal  truths  /  and  thus  the  philosopher,  who  is  not 
too  presumptuous,  claims  the  merit  of  being,  at  least, 
a  searcher  of  universal  truths. 

I  use  the  word  truth  as  synonymous  with  the  word 
fact.  If  therefore  any  truth  or  fact  is  known  which 
does  not  pervade  all  the  sciences,  it  is  not  comprised 
within  the  purview  of  Philosophy.  For  instance,  the 
proposition  which  enunciates  that  the  three  angles  of  a 
triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles,  is  a  truth  rang- 
ing only  through  certain  sciences  and  arts,  such  as 
Geometry,  Astronomy,  Mechanics,  &c. ;  but  falling 
short  of  universality,  it  does  not  belong  to  Philoso- 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  Philosophy  never  con- 
siders or  investigates  these  limited  facts.  If  it  could 
dispense  its  adepts  from  obtaining  this  kind  of  knowl- 
edge, it  would  enjoy  a  privilege  which  no  other  science 
possesses.  All  the  sciences  and  arts  are  connected 
with  each  other — relate  to  and  run  into  each  other ; 
but  when  Philosophy  examines  and  expounds  limited 
facts,  it  does  so  collaterally  and  subsidiarily,  by  way 


4  HUMANICS. 

of  illustration  or  proof,  to  show  a  dependency  upon 
some  unlimited  truth,  or  for  the  purpose  of  arriving  by 
induction  at  some  supreme  principle. 

So  far,  then,  from  being  independent  of  all  other 
sciences,  Philosophy  is  the  science  of  sciences  ;  for  in 
order  to  find  the  truths  which  are  common  to  all  sciences, 
it  searches  through  every  one  of  them. 

Hence  the  domain  of  Philosophy  is  immense  ;  but 
it  does  not  absorb  Humanics,  Logic,  Ethics,  and  Reli- 
gion. These  sciences  remain  perfectly  distinct,  so  far 
as  they  apply  facts,  limited  or  universal,  to  one  distinct 
subject  or  bearing.  These  sciences,  like  every  other, 
deal  with  many  universal  truths,  borrow  many  limited 
facts  from  kindred  sciences ;  but  have  also  particular 
facts  exclusivelj^  their  own.  The  collection  of  the 
whole  into  one  synthetical  body,  forms  a  separate  science 
which  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  Philosophy;  for 
Philosophy  claims  only  such  ingredients  of  Physics, 
Humanics,  Theology,  &c.,  as  are  applicable  to  all  the 
sciences,  and  leaves  the  rest  to  its  true  owners  in  the 
ledger  of  human  knowledge. 

To  give  an  example  in  a  certain  class  of  sciences : 
The  proposition  that  "the  whole  includes  a  part,"  is 
a  universal  axiom,  and  belongs  to  Philosophy ;  but  so 
far  as  it  is  used  with  one  or  more  lesser  facts  in  demon- 
stratinjT  the  laws  of  number  and  extension  it  is  a  mathe- 
matical  truth  ;  and  the  mathematician,  in  this  view, 
need  not  trouble  himself  with  the  consideration  of  its 
universality. 


PKOLOGUE.  5 

A  converse  example  would  be  equally  demonstra- 
tive. It  is  a  fact  tliat  the  power  of  water  as  a  motor  is 
in  proportion  to  its  height,  l^ow  if  this  fact  were  found 
in  the  case  of  water  only,  it  would  belong  exclusively 
to  the  science  of  Hydraulics ;  but  observation  extends 
it  to  all  liquids,  also  finds  that  it  is  a  law  of  every  fall- 
ing body  ;  then  that  it  is  the  law  of  weight  in  general ; 
and  finally,  that  it  is  resolvable  into  the  great  laws  of 
universal  gravitation. 

If  Philosophy  in  general  be  viewed  only  from  a 
single  point,  and  that  point  be  taken  as  a  beginning  or 
pivot  of  all  knowledge,  a  system  arises  characterized  by 
a  distinctive  idiosyncrasy  which  admits  only  such  facts 
as  adapt  themselves  to  the  initial  idea.  Thus  we  have 
Scholastic,  Theistical,  Skeptical,  Sensational,  Ideal, 
Mystical,  Eclectical,  Positive,  and  Metaphysical  Philo- 
sophy ;  and  thus  too,  each  school  defines  the  science  to 
suit  its  own  theory.  Here  it  is  the  science  of  the  soul, 
there  the  science  of  thought,  elsewhere  the  knowledge 
of  self  or  of  man  ;  with  one  it  is  the  critique  of  pure  rea- 
son, with  others  the  science  of  the  infinite  and  absolute, 
with  many  it  is  the  knowledge  of  the  cause,  nature,  and 
principle  of  things,  existence,  &c. ;  and  with  some  it 
is  the  doctrine  of  the  origin  of  ideas. 

The  definition  with  which  I  started,  viz.,  that 
Philosophy  is  the  science  of  universal  truths,  shows 
that  I  have  attached  myself  to  none  of  these  systems, 
nor  do  I  exclude  any  of  them.  My  definition,  I  con- 
sider, escapes  the  fault  which  can  be  imputed  to  the 


6  HUMANICS. 

others,   viz.,  breadth  without  sufficient  precision,  or 
precision  without  sufficient  breadth. 

If,  for  instance,  we  say  :  "  Philosophy  is  the  science 
of  the  causes,  principles,  and  nature  of  existences  and 
things,"  we  would  make  it  embrace  all  sciences  in  their 
generalities  and  m  their  details  ;  for,  each  science  is 
an  aggregation  of  harmonious  principles  and  causes, 
more  or  less  general,  relating  to  a  definite  subject.  If, 
on  the  contrary,  we  define  Philosophy  as  the  science 
of  soul,  or  of  thought,  or  of  man,  we  confine  it  to  a  cir- 
cle which  would  seem  to  be  that  of  Psychology,  &c. 

On  the  one  side  we  would  invade  and  take  exclu- 
sive possession  of  the  dominions  of  every  particular 
science — so  that  to  write  a  complete  philosophical 
treatise  would  be  to  compose  an  encyclopedia.  On  the 
other  liand,  if  we  adopt  any  one  of  the  above  less 
general  definitions,  we  usurp  the  place  of  a  few  limited 
sciences  and  leave  the  rest  out  of  view. 

Thus  Philosophy  would  have  no  ground  of  its  own, 
no  individual  mission. 

Kow  I  would  fain  avoid  all  this  confusion ;  yet  far 
from  starting  any  new  and  exclusive  system,  all  I  seek, 
by  the  definition  proposed,  is  to  classify  for  the  sake  of 
clearness,  and  by  this  classification  to  make  a  funda- 
mental division  of  Philosophy  into  two  parts.  The 
first  I  assign  to  Universal  Philosophy — the  second  to 
Special  Philosophy,  such  as  the  Philosoj)hy  of  Ethics, 
Physics,  Law,  &c. 

By  this  division  we  may,  in  a  degree,  be  better  able 


PROLOGUE.  7, 

"^o  know  the  ground  we  survey,  and  more  readily  know 
what  to  do  with  the  materials  we  gather. 

The  division  of  Philosophy  into  universal  and  sj)ecial, 
tends  to  induce  a  search  for  universal  analogies,  gener- 
alizations, and  harmonies ;  and  through  the  discovery 
and  clear  enunciation  of  general  laws,  to  bring  together 
facts  which  now  appear  isolated  and  disconnected,  and 
thus  perhaps  reconciling  ideas  heretofore  held  to  be 
contradictory. 

For  example,  what  two  things  could  appear  more 
disconnected  than  the  fall  of  an  apple  and  the  revolu- 
tions of  planets  ?  Yet  by  the  mighty  grasp  of  ITewton^s 
mind,  through  a  rigorous  process  of  generalization, 
these  two  facts  are  shown  to  be  identical  in  essence, 
and  assignable  to  the  same  universal  law. 

Before  then  how  many  and  how  unsatisfactory  were 
the  theories  invented  to  explain  the  movements  of  the 
planetary  system ;  but  the  discovery  and  proof  of  a 
universal  fact,  or  rather  the  well-grounded  generaliza- 
tion of  an  infinite  variety  of  apj)arently  independent 
facts  under  one  universal  law,  removed  dissensions, 
cleared  the  rubbish  of  ages  from  the  current  of  intellec- 
tual progress,  and  allowed  it  to  flow  into  broader  and 
deeper  beds. 

Our  idea  of  Philosophy  is  therefore  simply  this :  it 
is  the  searcher  and  enumerator  of  universal  truths ; 
and,  as  such,  it  attends  to  the  classification  of  science 
in  general. 

So  when  universal  truths  are  considered  in  them- 


8  HUMANICS. 

selves  and  independently  of  any  j^articular  science,  or 
when  facts  (general  or  limited)  are  considered  as  with 
reference  to  any  synthetical  view  of  all  science,  or  for 
the  purposes  of  jinlimited  generalization,  then  we  are 
within  the  purview  of  Thilosoph j  proper,  or  as  I  would 
prefer  to  term  it,  "  Universal  Philosophy." 

But  should  general  ideas,  or  the  general  connection 
of  all  things,  or  the  dependency  of  each  thing  upon  all 
things,  be  considered  with  reference  to  any  particular 
science,  or  should  we  syncretize  the  facts  of  that  science 
so  as  to  reduce  them  to  one  or  a  few  primary  principles, 
then  w^e  have  its  especial  philosophy.  Hence  the  ex- 
pressions Philosophy  of  Language,  Mind,  Morals,  Gov- 
ernment, Law,  &c. 

Now  that  we  have  defined  Philosophy,  and  ascer- 
tained what  really  belongs  to  it,  in  the  apportionment 
of  science,  let  us  resume  the  subject  of  Humanics. 

Humanics  is  the  science  of  man. 

As  with  regard  to  Philosophy,  let  us  be  careful  not 
to  give  greater  extension  to  Humanics  than  properly 
belongs  to  it. 

We  are  apt  to  look  into  nature  only  so  far  as  it  con- 
cerns or  affects  us ;  or,  considering  all  things,  from  the 
w^eed  and  worm  to  the  stars  and  sun,  as  made  for  man 
alone,  we  are  prone  to  view  all  distinct  sciences  as  mere 
details  of  the  science  of  man ;  but  the  immensity  of 
creation  soon  crushes  our  presumption,  and  wq  must 
dwindle  into  a  limited  sphere,  contenting  ourselves  with 
being — what  we  really  are — a  small,  but  wonderful 


PROLOGUE.  9 

portion  of  God's  work :  liigli,  no  doubt,  in  the  scale, 
yet  only  a  single  term  of  an  infinite  series. 

Hence,  recalling  the  fact  that  all  sciences  are  con- 
nected and  dependent  upon  each  other,  let  us  endeavor  to 
mark  the  place  of  Humanics.  To  do  this,  let  us  find, 
if  possible,  the  traits  which  it  does  not  borrow  from  any 
other  science  or  from  Universal  Philosophy. 

Every  science  bears  the  impress  of  our  nature  ;  for 
no  science  can  be  framed  without  calling  into .  service 
the  powers  of  our  physical,  moral,  and  intellectual  con- 
stitution. 

YiTALiTY  and  the  love  of  Self^  or  egotism,  assert  the 
claims  of  life  and  liberty  developed  in  Jurisprudence, 
Government,  &c. 

Sensation  and  the  love  of  Truth^  or  of  reality,  gather 
the  concrete  and  abstract  contents  of  all  knowledge. 

Emotion  and  the  love  of  Society^  or  social  feelings, 
furnish  the  moral  and  spiritual  motives  which  prevail 
in  Ethics,  Political  Economy,  &c. 

Thought  and  the  sense  of  Utility^  give  the  processes 
and  the  forms  disclosed  by  Mathematics,  Logic,  JEs- 
thetics,  &c. 

Action  and  the  love  of  Evolution^  impel  to  the  prac- 
tical uses  of  our  bodily  organization,  and  to  the  con- 
crete formation  of  the  Arts,  Language,  &c. 

Every  science  involves  in  itself  our  physical  and 
moral  constitution — every  art  is  the  work  of  that  consti- 
tution. Hence,  sciences  and  arts  necessarily  conform 
to  human  nature  itself,  and  are  moulded  agreeably  to 


10  HUMANICS. 

it  as  their  matrix  and  author ;  but  it  is  not  tlie  province 
of  any  science,  excejpt  IIumanics,  to  study  man  in  the 
aggregate,  and  in  every  particular,  as  a  distinct  or 
pivotal  subject  of  knowledge. 

Indeed,  in  teaching  Mathematics,  Logic,  Physic, 
Ethics,  Art,  &c.,  the  essential  elements  of  humanity 
from  which  they  arise  are  only  incidentally  noted : 
sometimes  all  mention  of  them  is  entirely  omitted. 

Thus,  it  is  clear,  a  place  in  the  classification  of 
knowledge  is  necessarily  marked  for  the  science  of  IIu- 
manics. While,  without  its  contributions,  the  other 
sciences  would  be  imperfect ;  and  while  they  all  appeal 
to  it  for  grounds  and  ratiouale,  they  do  not  singly  or 
together  profess  to  embrace  its  contents.  Hence,  IIu- 
manics is  not  only  a  specific  science,  but  of  great  dig- 
nity and  value. 

It  singles  out  man  from  among  the  Zoological  reign, 
and  makes  him  the  subject  of  especial  study.  While  it 
analyzes  every  detail  of  his  organization  and  essence, 
it  attaches  itself  principally  to  his  distinguishing  char- 
acteristics, and  seeks  to  find  their  synthesis. 

Zoology  herself  sanctions  the  concession  of  a  distinct 
place  to  Humanics  ;  for  zoology  has  found  it  necessary, 
even  when  studying  man  as  a  mere  animal,  to  set  him 
apart  from  all  others  in  a  class  by  himself. 

If  we  considered  any  science  to  include,  as  a  part  of 
itself,  all  that  is  necessary  to  its  proof  or  elucidation, 
then  each  science  w^ould  comprise  every  science.  All 
things  are  blended,  interlinked,  seriated,  and  reciprocal 


PROLOGUE.  11 

in  the  scheme  of  nature.  Nothing  can  be  absolutely 
isolated.  Every  atom  relates  to  all  atoms.  Any  fact 
belongs  and  relates  to  every  other  fact.  For  example, 
a  vein  of  the  body  belongs  to  and  depends  upon  the  ag- 
gregate circulation  of  the  blood.  To  explain  a  vein,  the 
whole  of  anatomy,  &c.,  must  be  studied. 

Hence,  if  other  sciences  must  appeal  to  Humanics 
for  proofs  and  landmarks,  Humanics  in  turn  must,  for 
the  same  purpose,  resort  to  them  all. 

How  then  are  we  to  know  what  properly  belongs  to 
Humanics,  and  what  is  merely  collateral  ? 

Simply  by  keeping  in  view  our  design^  which  is  to 
know  man  as  distinguishable  from  all  the  rest  of  ani- 
mate and  inanimate  nature. 

Every  fact,  every  relation  which  enables  us  to  do 
this,  must  be  considered ;  but  the  differentia  and  gen- 
eralizations, as  applicable  to  man's  nature,  are  alone 
the  property  of  Humanics. 

"With  this  delineation  of  the  scope  of  our  subject, 
and  with  this  index  to  the  object  of  our  work,  it  will  be 
impossible  to  confound  Humanics  with  Philosophy. 
On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  distinction 
drawn,  in  another  part  of  this  prologue,  between  Special 
and  Universal  Philosophy,  renders  it  useless  to  argue 
any  further  to  show  that  the  special  philosophy  of  Hu- 
manics does  not  disturb  the  functions  or  diminish  the 
sphere  of  Universal  Philosophy.  Hence,  without  fur- 
ther discussion,  I  refer  to  what  I  have  already  said 
above,  merely  adding : 


12  HUMANICS. 

Humanics  brings  all  trutli  to  bear  upon  man ;  seeks 
to  prove  liis  title  to  all  that  is  peculiarly  his  own ;  makes 
him  the  focus  of  intellectual  vision. 

Philosophy,  on  the  contrary,  gathers  all  truth  to 
generalize,  inclej^endently,  upon  all  existing  things ; 
seeks  to  find  the  common  property  of  all  existences  and 
phenomena ;  displays  the  light  of  an  intelligence  all 
over  the  Universe. 

Humanics  brings  many  truths  to  converge  upon 
man. 

Philosophy  views  all  truth  as  radiating  from  some 
grand  principle,  which  man  and  every  thing  else  must 
rely. 

Hence,  Humanics  must  look  into  the  whole  nature 
of  man. 

Zoology  describes  him  only  so  far  as  he  belongs  to 
the  series  of  sensational  organisms. 

Psychology  contemplates  him  only  as  an  intellectual 
being. 

Ethics  regards  him  only  in  his  emotional  char- 
acter. 

Physiology  observes  him  only  as  the  vehicle  of  vital 
functions. 

History  depicts  him  as  performing  action. 

But  man  is  not  merely  sentimental,  moral,  vital  or 
automatic :  he  is  all  of  these  to2:ether.  Hence  it  is 
necessary,  in  order  to  know  him,  to  bring  back  these 
elements  to  their  common  centre,  and  to  reconstitute 
the  human  unit. 


PROLOGUE.  13 

Let  lis  therefore  study  each  of  the  constituents :  tlieir 
co-ordination  with  the  whole — their  points  of  connec- 
tion as  a  body — their  respective  reaction  as  parts  of  the 
totality — their  combination  into  a  single  man. 

And  thus  taking  man  as  sensation,  thought,  emo- 
tion, vitality,  and  action  forming  together  ^y^e  organism, 
we  proceed  to  our  investigation.     This  division  into — 

1.  Vitality, 

2.  Sensation, 

3.  Emotion, 

4.  Thought, 

5.  Action, 

is  the  most  radical,  and  withal  the  most  adequate  I  can 
find,  in  the  least  number  of  general  terms,  to  comprise  all 
th.Q  ^phenomena  exhibited  by  man  as  an  organic  entity. 

A  lesser  number  would  exclude  many  facts — many 
realities;  so  that  a  portion  of  the  whole  truth  being 
omitted,  we  would  often  fail  to  make  a  just  estimate 
or  explanation  of  whatever  we  may  be  striving  to 
solve  or  expound. 

A  greater  number  of  parts,  we  find  upon  trial, 
would  only  give  5w5-divisions  of  the  elements  we  have 
stated,  obliterate  clear  marks  of  distinction,  and  thus 
create  confusion. 

Yitally  man  embodies  the  conditions  and  processes 
of  vegetative  life  :  he  has  organs  of  generation,  respira- 
tion, secretion,  nutrition ;  and  so  have  plants,  and  like 
them  he  grows,  lives,  reproduces  himself,  decays,  and 
dies. 


14  HUMANICS. 

Sensationally^  man  embodies  the  conditions  and 
processes  of  animal  life.  Man  feels,  tastes,  smells, 
hears,  and  sees;  and  so  do  brutes.  Like  them,  he  has 
bones,  muscles,  nerves,  blood,  &c.  Like  them,  he  is 
locomotive,  &c. 

Emotionally^  man  embodies  not  only  the  animal 
propensities,  but  also  human  sentiments.  On  the  one 
side,  he  is  the  creature  of  instinct ;  on  the  other,  a 
moral  agent.  Thus,  there  is  in  emotion  a  link  which 
connects  with  brute  feeling,  and  another  which  unites 
with  intelligence. 

Intellectually^  man  embodies  distinct  elements,  and 
becomes  essentially  himself,  finding  ground  to  hope  for 
a  total  severance  of  the  thread  which  ties  him  to 
matter. 

Actively^  man  combines  all  the  elements  of  organic 
evolution.  Life,  Sensation,  Emotion,  and  Thought,  for 
the  purposes  of  Truth,  Beauty,  Art,  and  Progress,  and 
constantly  vindicates  on  earth  his  claims  to  a  Divine 
Parentage. 

Before  proceeding,  I  submit  the  following  table  of 
the  view  I  have  taken  of  man,  in  this  volume : 


I. 

VITALITY. 

I  BEGIN  with  this  proposition : 

The  distinction  between  Vegetable  and  Animal  or- 
ganization is,  that  Vegetation  does  not^  while  Animality 
does^  embody  Sensation  :  their  common  attribute  being 
Vitality. 

Plants  have  Vitality. 

Animals  have  Vitality  and  Sensation. 

Man  (w^e  note  it  here  in  advance)  has  Vitality,  Sen- 
sation, and  Thought. 

This  differentia  is  conceded,  tacitly  or  expressly,  by 
all  j)hysiologists,  and  is  a  primary  law  of  their  classifi- 
cation. The  moment  they  detect  in  any  organism, 
however  simple,  an  apparatus  of  sensation  however 
embryonic,  they  give  the  organism  a  place  in  the 
animal  kingdom  ;  but  if  it  is  devoid  of  any  medium  of 
sensation,  it  is  conceded  to  vegetable  nature. 

The  difficulty  they  meet  with,  and  which  I  will 
strive  to  overcome,  is  to  draw  the  true  demarcation 


16  HUMANICS. 

between  vital  and  sensational  acts.  They  are  embar- 
rassed by  some  of  the  active  phenomena  that  seemingly 
obliterate  their  line  of  distinction.  In  the  lower  grades 
of  animal  life  there  are  organisms  which  naturalists 
have  hesitated  to  rank  above  plants,  so  incomplete  and 
dull  is  their  sensibility  ;  while  some  plants  are  so  vital, 
they  seem  to  exhibit  sensation. 

Hence  they  have,  in  doubtful  cases,  resorted  to  a 
more  minute  investigation.  In  the  lower  varieties  of 
Radiata  and  Mollusca,  Infusoria  and  Polypi,  a  number 
of  other  conditions  proper  only  to  animal  life,  are 
found ;  while  in  the  highest  development  of  sensitive 
plants — the  Mimosa,  Venus-Fly-Trap,  and  others 
showing  tokens  of  sensibility — every  analogy  of  form 
and  process  serves  to  identify  them  with  vegetable 
life. 

Thus  one  plurality  of  signs  belongs  to  vegetation, 
and  another  to  animalit}^  Each  reign  has  indicia  pe- 
culiarly its  own  ;  and  wherever  a  single  phenomenon 
is  apparently  inconstant,  a  reference  to  the  multiple  in- 
dex, and  to  the  assemblage  of  analogies,  dispels  every 
doubt.  Every  item  of  the  index  is  not,  however,  found 
in  every  individual,  yet  there  are  always  a  sufficient 
number  to  make  the  test  conclusive. 

The  great  number  of  these  indicia,  and  the  imper- 
fection of  the  words  used  to  describe  them,  make  it 
difficult  to  frame  a  summary  definition  of  either  class 
of  organisms.  Practically^  however,  our  knowledge  of 
the  marks  which  belong  to  one  kingdom  or  to  the  other, 


VITALITY.  17 

precludes  any  error.  We  know  from  constant  experi- 
ence the  peculiar  forms  and  modes  of  each ;  and,  thus 
looking  upon  nature,  we  never  fail  to  distinguish  a 
plant  from  an  animal. 

The  certainty  and  ease  with  which  this  is  done  by 
means  of  the  multiple  index  and  the  sum  or  assemblage 
of  types  found  in  each  individual,  has  dispensed  Phi- 
losophers from  a  strict  allotment  of  the  attributes  of  Yi- 
tality,  Sensation,  and  Thought ;  and  they  are  not  clearly 
separated  from  one  another. 

Hence  great  confusion  and  doubt  arises  when  we 
seek  to  assign  certain  acts  either  to  life,  instinct,  or 
reason. 

In  a  ps^^chological,  ethical,  religious,  humanic  point 
of  view,  it  is  important  that  this  confusion  and  doubt 
should  be  made  to  disappear. 

To  do  this  my  method  is  very  simple.  I  will  take 
man  as  a  sum  total,  subtract  from  this  totality  all  the 
phenomena  exhibited  by  vegetation  ;  and  these  I  will 
class  as  the  attributes  of  Yitality.  Then  subtracting  all 
the  phenomena  exhibited  by  sub-human  animals,  I  will 
class  their  attributes  as  Sensational;  and  will  assign 
the  clear  remainder,  if  any  I  find,  to  Thought — to  Hu- 
manity. 

When  this  operation  is  performed,  we  will  then  see 
that  we  have  been  too  prone  to  consider  all  acts  per- 
formed by  man  as  dictated  by  thought — that  when  we 
see  a  sub-human  animal  do  any  act  that  man  does,  we 
have  been  too  prone  to  regard  it  as  the  work  of  intelli- 


18  HUMANICS. 

gence — that  we  have  not  raised  instinct  in  man  suffi- 
ciently high^  lohilst  we  have  drawn  the  inferior  limit  of 
Thought  too  low  /  thus  refusing  to  life  and  instinct  due 
credit  for  mucli  they  do  for  us,  and  chargii%  thought 
with  deeds  to  which  it  never  degrades  itself. 

The  certainty  with  which  we  can  fix  the  limits  of 
vegetable,  animal,  and  human  life  j^hijsically^  will  en- 
able us  to  fix  the  same  \\m\.\s>  jpsychologically.  The  phys- 
ical circle  will  serve  us  to  ascertain  the  metaphysical 
boundaries ;  and  though  yielding  (to  matter  or  to  vi- 
tality and  instinct)  all  and  every  act  and  deed  ever 
done  by  plant  or  sub-human  animal,  there  will  still  re- 
main a  mind  for  man  alone — a  pure  and  glorious  mind 
which  may  claim  a  child-to-father-relationship  wdth 
God. 

Why  accept  this  physical  boundary  between  Yital- 
ity,  Sensation,  and  Thought  ?  Why  accord  to  Yitality 
all  and  every  phenomenon  exhibited  by  Vegetation — 
to  Sensation  every  other  phenomenon  exhibited  by  sub- 
human animals — and  leave  to  man,  as  his  own  essential 
property,  the  residue  only  ?  We  answer,  simply  be- 
cause the  distinction  is  visible,  is  dictated  by  the  real 
and  direct  state  of  the  case,  and  has  the  merit  of  being 
the  work  of  Nature's  God  himself.  We  have  no  right 
to  obliterate  or  disturb  the  lines  drawn  in  nature.  Phi- 
losophers profess  to  base  their  systems  on  nature  itself 
— to  find  in  nature  the  proof  of  their  ideations.  Hence 
they  ought  not  to  allow  the  vagueness  and  imperfection 


VITALITY.  10 

of  language  to  confuse  them  ;  and  hence,  after  once 
afhxing  the  term  "  Yitality  "  or  "  Life,"  as  entering  into 
the  definition  of  a  plant,  as  being  the  essential  content 
which  distinguishes  a  plant  from  inorganic  matter,  they 
cannot,  when  thej  behold  in  man  any  phenomenon, 
force,  process,  or  act  previously  observed  in  plants,  at- 
tribute these  phenomena  to  any  other  force  or  law  than 
that  of  Vitality.  The  consistency  and  plainness  of  lan- 
guage requires  tliis.  If  what  is  merely  vital  in  plants 
ceases  to  be  so  when  discovered  in  man,  an  insoluble 
contradiction  arises  :  language  no  longer  enunciates 
any  distinct  conception :  one  thing  receives  several 
names,  and  these  names  become  expressive  of  ideas  sug- 
gested by  the  other  terms  "  Sensation  "  or  "  Thought ;  " 
and  thus  the  things  themselves  become  confounded  or 
irreconcilable.  When  we  admit,  once  for  all,  that  every 
organic  action  seen  in  plants  is  vital,  no  matter  how 
complex  and  wonderful  it  may  be,  we  will  not  be  em- 
barrassed to  distinguish  vital  from  sensational  forces  in 
the  acts  of  animals ;  and  the  boundary  between  vegeta- 
ble and  animal  kingdoms,  between  Yitality  and  Sensa- 
tion, will  be  as  plain  in  philosophy  as  it  is  in  physiolo- 
gy. Is  the  shrinking  of  the  mimosa,  the  motion  of  the 
sun-flower,  a  vital  or  a  sensational  phenomena  ?  Phi- 
losophy by  her  definitions  of  terms  has  left  this  doubt- 
ful. To  solve  the  doubt,  let  us  try  the  eflfect  of  a  posi- 
tive determination  of  the  extent  of  each  term — let  vital- 
ity and  vegetation  embrace  the  same  purview ;  and, 
allowing  nature  to  speak  for  herself,  let  us  hope  that 


20  HUMANICS. 

she  will,  in  her  admirable  consistency,  enable  us  to  un- 
derstand man  better  than  we  do. 

As  between  Sensation  and  Tliought  let  us  adopt  the 
same  rule — let  all  acts  of  sub-human  animals  be  yielded 
to  Yitality  and  Sensation  ;  and  let  these  be  the  purview 
of  instinct  and  consciousness  in  man  as  well  as  beast. 
Is  the  act  of  the  ^'  Dog  of  Montargis "  wholly  sensa- 
tional, or  is  it  intelligent  ?  If  the  latter,  then  where 
does  instinct  end  and  thought  begin — then  what  distinct 
and  exclusive  claim  can  man  assert  to  the  immortality 
of  the  soul?  Is  it  not  plain,  that  if  we  do  not  give 
away  to  vitality  and  sensation,  (to  their  forces  and  laws.) 
all  that  the  Dog  of  Montargis  did,  the  line  between  An- 
imality  and  Human  nature  is  effaced,  or  becomes  doubt- 
ful, so  that  instinct  and  thought  could  hardly  be  distin- 
guished. 

It  is  well  settled  that  if  we  wish  to  understand  our- 
selves, reason  clearly,  and  be  understood  by  others,  we 
should  as  much  as  possible  avoid  using  words  in  an  am- 
biguous or  equivocal  sense.  Hence,  if  we  sanction  the 
term  "  intelligent "  as  applicable  to  the  actions  of  a 
Dog,  we  must  be  at  a  loss  to  find  some  other  term  to 
express  the  peculiar  nature  of  the  superinstinctive  acts 
of  man.  Even  the  word  rational  would  not  do  :  for  ra- 
tionality and  intelligence  import  one  another.  Thus,  if 
we  wish  to  avoid  in  Ilumanics,  the  fallacies  of  ambigu- 
ous middle,  &c.,  so  often  denounced  by  scholastic  logic, 
we  must  cease  to  designate  the  actions  of  sub-human 
animals,  dogs,  &c.,  as  "intelligent;"  or  must  restrict 


VITALITY.  21 

the  term  to  the  faculty  of  direct  perceptions — to  imme- 
diate sensation  alone.  If  the  term  must  embrace  the 
tricks  of  a  Fox,  as  well  as  the  manifestations  of  God's 
mind  in  the  Universe,  the  sooner  it  is  discarded,  for  ob- 
scurity and  uncertainty,  the  better.  Rather  than  cheat 
ourselves  and  others  by  the  use  of  such  terms,  new 
terms  of  exact  and  limited  meaning  should  be  invented. 
We  might,  for  instance : 

Instead  of  Vitality^  say  Yegetality  ; 

instead  of  Sensation^  &c.,  say  Animality  ; 

instead  of  Intelligence^  &c.,  say  Humanality  ; 
and  place  in  each  of  these  terms  the  phenomena  pecu- 
liar to  itself:  that  is  to  say,  from  Humanality  exclude 
all  that  man  has  in  common  with  the  other  animals, 
and  from  Animality  all  that  the  animals  have  in  com- 
mon with  Plants. 

Thus,  in  the  conformity  of  language  with  reality,  we 
may  harmonize  philosophy  with  nature. 

Is  it  not  absurd  to  attribute  to  the  intelligence  of 
man  any  of  the  processes  or  acts  which  plants  accom- 
plish as  thoroughly  as  he  does  ?  Is  it  not  plain  that 
none  of  the  evolutions  of  a  plant  can  be  attributed  to 
an  intelligence  or  will  of  its  own  ? — that  a  plant's  evolu- 
tions are  involuntary  and  mechanical  ? — that  the  same 
evolutions  in  man  must  be  also  unintelligent  and  instinc- 
tive ?  It  seems  very  idle  to  ask  such  a  question ;  yet  it 
is  too  true  that  the  neglect  to  ask  it  gives  place  to  con- 
tinual and  manifold  error,  and  even  to  great  systems 


22  HUMANICS. 

of  philosophy.  It  is  because  we  liabitually  refer  all  hu- 
man action,  however  involuntary  it  may  appear,  to  our 
rational  faculty  and  voluntary  powers,  that  Locke,  and 
Hume,  and  Condillac,  and  their  successors,  have  suc- 
ceeded in  establishing  their  school  of  "  Sensationalism." 
For  instance,  finding  that  man  prefers  to  eat  the 
fruit  of  the  trees,  and  never  thinks  of  pasturing  on  the 
grass  of  the  fields,  they  are  prone  to  attribute  his  choice 
to  reasoned  experience,  rather  than  to  the  instinct  which 
clings  the  infant  to  his  mother's  breast ;  and  thus,  hav- 
ing confounded  our  thought  with  our  instinct,  the  sen- 
sationalist cannot  discern  any  attribute  in  man  which 
beasts  do  not  also  possess. 

All  the  internal  or  external  movements  of  which 
plants  are  capable  are  phenomena  of  Yegetality.  Ev- 
ery thing  a  plant  does  is  vital — and  nothing  else — 
nothing  more. 

Kone  will  dispute  this  proposition  ;  but  the  conse- 
quences which  it  produces  are  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance, and  require  the  close  attention  of  every  philoso- 
pher. 

"What  are  these  movements  of  plants  ?  Can  plants 
do  any  thing  ?  Can  they  do  any  thing  which  we  are 
in  the  habit  of  attributing  to  Sensation  and  Thought  ? 

How  much  of  what  we  usually  accord  to  Animality 
or  Humanality  must  we  restore  to  Yegetality  ?  How 
much  of  the  constitution  of  man.  must  we  set  apart  as 
belonging  to  mere  Vegetation  ?     "What  forces,  organs, 


VITALITY.  23 

processes,  and  acts  are  common  to  plants,  animals,  and 
men  ?  In  fact,  when  we  shall  have  performed  the  oper- 
ation of  subtracting  these  from  the  sum  of  man's  con- 
stituent elements,  may  it  not  aj)pear  that  we  have  here- 
tofore been  confounding  the  workings  of  our  vegetative 
organism  with  the  higher  display  of  sensation  and 
thought  ? 
Let  us  see. 

Plants  are  capable  of: 

1st.  Absorption  and  involution  of  heat,  light,  and 

electricity ; 
2d,    Eespiration  of  aerial  gases ; 
3d.    Ingestion  and  preparation  of  aliment; 
4th.  Circulation  of  nutritive  elements ; 
5th.  Assimilation  and  growth  ; 
6  th.  Evolution  and  radiation  of  heat,  light,  and 

electricity ; 
7th.  Exhalation  of  aerial  gases ; 
8th.  Secretion  and  excretion ; 
9th.  Generation  and  reproduction ; 
10th.  Dormancy  and  death. 
Plants  have  functions  common  also  to  animals,  as  if 
a  plant  were,  to  that  extent,  an  animal;  or,  as  if  an 
animal  were,  to  that  extent,  a  plant.     The  plant — 1, 
gathers  warmth,  &c. ;  2,  breathes ;  3,  eats  and  drinks ; 
4,  bleeds ;  5,  digests  and  assimilates ;  6,  radiates ;  7, 
exhales ;  8,  sweats ;  9,  copulates  and  breeds ;  10,  sleeps 
and  dies;  and,  in  these  respects,  plants  are  alike  to 
animals. 


24 


HUMANICS. 


The  fact  that  the  plant  eats  and  respires  the  very 
things  which  animals  excrete  and  exhale,  not  only  fur- 
nishes a  beautiful  example  of  the  economy,  equipoise, 
and  co-ordination  of  nature,  but  also  makes  proof  of  a 
correspondence  of  functions  in  the  two  kingdoms  of  the 
organic  world. 

On  this  point,  I  call  attention  to  the  following 
parallel,  which  I  find  at  page  141  of  Professor  Allen's 
admirable  work,  "  The  Philosophy  of  the  Mechanics  of 
Nature :  " 


"  Antagonistic  forces  and  functions  developed  ly  HTie  oppositely 
modified  propagation  of  the  electro-dynamic  action  of  the  sun, 
through  the  meclianisms  of  the  organs  of  plants  and  of  the 
organs  of  animals, 

"  The  electro- dynamic  action    of   the   sun   when  propagated 
through  the  modifying  agency  of  the  organs  of — 


PLANTS, 

{Carton, 
Oxygen, 
Hydrogen, 
Nitrogen, 
From  their  natural  fluid  I  Water, 
inorganic  static   con--<  Carb.  Acid  Gas, 

ditio'ns  of (  Nitrog'n  of  Air, 

To  tlie  constrained  solid  (  Vegetable       or- 
organic    static     con--(      ganic     forma- 

ditions  of (     tions ; 

and  continually  sustains  these  groupings 
of  atoms  of  vegetable  formations  in  tlie 
variously  modified  conditions  of 

CoHESiOK,  as  exhibited  J  Y\a^x^^ 

^° I  Cotton,  &c. ; 

^4  \  India  liubber, 

Elb«tkicitv,    do.,  do.,-^  Wooden 

Springs,  &c. ; 


Acids,      do., 
Alkalies,  do., 


do., 
do., 


Food,  do.,    do., 

Fuel,  do.,    do., 


(  Lemons, 
"J  Sorrel,  «fcc. ; 
j  Morphine, 
(  Strychnine; 


and 


»  Wood, 
\  Peat,  &c. ; 


ANIMALS, 

f  Carbon, 
Restores      the      same  1  Hydrogen, 

atoms  of I  Oxygen, 

[Nitrogen,    '^ 
To  their  natural  fluid  i  Water,     , 
inorganic    static  con--(  Carb.  Acid  Gas^ 

ditions  of (  Nitrogen, 

From  their  constrained  (  Vegetable       or- 
solid  static  conditions-;     g-anic  '   forma- 

of {      tions ; 

and  continually  sustains  these  groupings 
of  atoms  of  animal  formations  in  the  vari- 
ously modified  conditions  of 

Cohesion,  as  exhibited]  Silk, 
in (  Wool,  &c. ; 

ELASTICIXV,      do.,    do.,    IJJ-^t^^tTt' 

Acids,  do.,  do.,  ■JkS;&c.; 

ALKALIES,      do.,  do.,   {  Gastric  Juice; 
Food,  ^K  do.,  ]  ^^f/^*,«^^  ^.,, . 

FiTEL,  do.,  do.,  ]^j;^^^,,  . 


VITALITY.  25 

Deneloping, 
during  the  recoil  of  all  these  groupings  of  atoms  of  both  vegetable 
and  animal  organic  formations  to  their  natural  static  condition  of 
carbonic  acid  gas  and  water,  the  inorganic  reaction  popularly  recog- 
nized as  the  phenomena  of 

Fermentation, 

Combustion 

Heat, 

Light, 

Electricity, 

Steam  Power, 

Animal  Motive  Power." 

And  lie  should  have  added,  vegetable  motive  power ; 
for  we  shall  show  that  plants  have  also  MOTIOIST. 

The  forces  which  the  professor  mentions  as  "  antag- 
onistic,"  are,  doubtless,  identical,  for  he  describes  them 
under  a  single  term,  "  the  electro-dynamic  action  of  the 
sun.^"*  At  any  rate,  they  are  harmonic,  and  reci]3rocat- 
ing  in  their  work ;  and  there  is  a  parity  in  the  mechanism 
of  their  instruments  of  production. 

I  will  not  extend  the  limits  of  this  work  to  repeat 
what  may  be  found  in  any  work  of  comparative 
physiology,  in  order  to  show  how  nature  has  framed  the 
first  germ-cells,  or  embryonic  net-work,  for  nutrition, 
respiration,  generation,  &c.,  in  the  plant;  and  how,  by 
specializations  more  and  more  complex  and  definite, 
it  becomes  possible  for  individual  organisms  to  live 
without  having  roots  in  the  ground,  and  to  move  from 


26  HUMANICS. 

place  to  place.  It  may  be  noted,  however,  en  passant^ 
that  at  the  boundary  between  vegetation  and  animality, 
among  the  zoophytes,  for  instance,  the  animal  is 
attached  to  a  root ;  while,  among  the  zoospores,  for 
instance,  the  vegetable  moves  freely  in  space. 

In  fact,  I  may  safely  assume,  on  the  authority  of 
the  best  physiologists,  that  plants  have  throats,  lungs, 
ducts,  pores,  intestines,  seminal  parts,  &c. ;  all  the 
apparatus  necessary  for  their  rudimentary  process  of 
nutrition,  respiration,  and  reproduction ;  else  how  could 
they  perform  these  functions  ? 

Hence,  a  portion  of  man's  nature  is  vegetal. 

On  this  point  there  can  be  no  doubt,  and  discussion 
would  serve  to  make  it  more  and  more  evident ;  for 
natm'al  history  and  natural  science  abound  with  facts 
— analogies,  seriations,  and  equations — to  exemplify 
and  demonstrate  it. 

But  what  of  MOTION?  Does  vegetalitj^  import 
motion  f  Is  the  force  which  sustains  vegetality  pro- 
ductive of  motion  ?  If  it  does  so,  then  to  what  extent 
are  the  motions  of  animals  attributal^le  to  the  principle 
of  vegetality  ? 

These  are  questions  which  it  is  necessary  to  solve 
with  clearness,  in  order  to  disentangle  the  science  of 
man.  Yet  these  questions  have  been  much  neglected; 
and  to  this  neglect  must  we  assign  much  of  the  obscuri- 
ty and  uncertainty  of  Psycholog3^  While  we  have  been 
constantly  comparing  man  with  the  lower  animals ; 


VITALITY.  27 

while  we  do  not  hesitate  to  find  analogies  between  him 
and  the  insect,  the  reptile,  the  fish,  the  bird,  and  the 
beast,  we  too  often  omit,  and  even  seem  to  dread,  to 
extend  onr  comparisons  to  the  herbage  and  trees  which 
live  around  ns,  and  which,  perpetually  for  our  use, 
elaborate  the  breath  and  bread  of  organic  life.  Surely, 
many  a  debate  upon  instinct  and  volition,  voluntary 
and  involuntary  action,  would  have  been  saved,  had 
the  functional  motions  of  plants  been  studied,  and  had 
their  connatural  identity  with  the  functional  motions  of 
animals  been,  at  the  same  time,  ascertained. 

We  should  have  remembered,  that  if  we  move  at 
all,  we  owe  our  power  of  doing  so  to  the  vital  forces 
within  us.  The  vital  forces  are,  in  animals,  the  ^motors 
of  every  functional  process ;  but  they  work  in  plants  as 
well  as  in  animals.  Plants  have  the  vital  force — plants 
have  life — they  contain  no  other  principle  of  functional, 
physiological,  or  organic  motion.  Hence,  if  plants 
exhibit  any  movement,  it  must  be  attributed  to  the 
automatic  forces  of  vitality  only ;  and  hence,  too,  the 
same  forces  must  be  capable  of  producing  the  same 
movements  in  animals  as  in  plants.  Hence,  all  the 
acts  of  man  of  wdiich  plants  are  capable,  are  the  evolu- 
tions of  his  vegetality  ;  and,  to  that  extent^  man's  nature 
is  identical  with  that  of  vegetation. 

Plants  seeh  the  light. — By  an  instinct  of  self-pres- 
ervation, they  always  direct  their  stems  towards  the 
points  from  which  they  may  best  obtain  the  luminous 


28  HUMANICS. 

ray  necessary  to  their  vitality.  They  strive  to  expose 
the  surface  of  their  leaves  to  the  greatest  light ;  that  is 
to  say,  towards  the  southern  sky.  The  sun-flower  greets 
the  rising  orb  of  day,  and  follows  him  in  his  course. 
The  hedysarum  gyrans  has  movements  which  vary 
according  to  light  and  shade  ;  for,  in  the  sun  light,  the 
central  leaflet  of  its  petioles  is  erect,  and,  in  the  shade, 
or  in  the  night,  it  is  depressed;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  two  lateral  leaflets  of  the  petioles  have  an 
oscillating  motion,  which,  incessant  during  both  day 
and  night,  increases  or  diminishes  in  rapidity  with  the 
degree  of  heat,  being  slower  in  cold,  and  quicker  in 
warm  weather. 

K,  in  a  cellar,  we  place  tuberculous  roots,  such  as 
potatoes,  they  w^ill  sprout  on  the  side  opposite  the  trap 
door  or  window. 

Mustel,  the  naturalist,  planted  a  jessamine  vine  in  a 
flower-pot ;  placed  the  flower-pot  in  a  high  box ;  pierced 
loop-holes  in  the  sides  of  the  box;  carried  it  into  a 
cellar,  which  had  only  one  oj^ening  to  admit  the  light, 
and  left  the  vine  to  grow.  It  grew  towards  tK&  light ; 
and  came  out  through  the  loop-holes  on  that  side. 
Then  he  turned  the  box,  so  that  the  loop-holes  which 
had  been  on  the  dark  side,  became  exposed  to  the 
light,  and  so  that  those  w^hich  had  been  opposite  the 
window  were  thrown  into  darkness.  Thereupon,  the 
vine  turned  its  stem,  changed  the  direction  of  its 
growth,  re-entered  the  box,  then  grew  across  it,  and 
came  out  again  through  the  loop-holes  of  the  recently 


VITALITY.  29 

illuminated  side.  Mustel  repeated  this  alternation  of 
light  and  darkness  several  times,  making  a  series  of 
loop-holes  at  each  change  of  position ;  and  the  effect 
continued  till  the  interior  of  the  box  became  filled  with 
a  mat- work  of  vine. 

Was  there  not  an  instinctive  power  in  that  vine,  to 
thus  pursue  that  light  ? 

Plants  extract  {from  Water,  Air^  <&c.)  the  Heat 
necessary  to  their  preservation  and  growth. — ^The  ob- 
vious fact  that  snow  at  the  foot  of  a  tree  melts  sooner 
than  snow  at  a  distance,  proves  that  plants  possess  a 
temperature  higher  in  winter  than  in  summer.  That 
the  temperature  is  lower  in  summer  is  equally  well 
proved  by  the  coldness  of  the  fluid  which  is  discharged 
from  many  vines  and  vine-like  plants  when  cut  across. 
These  phenomena  have  been  examined  with  great  care 
by  many  celebrated  naturalists ;  and  the  result  has 
been  the  universal  admission  that  the  heat  of  plants  in 
winter  is  several  degrees  higher,  and  in  summer  several 
degrees  lower,  than  that  of  the  external  air. 

In  winter,  the  temperature  of  the  earth  and  of  the 
water  below  its  surface,  is  higher  than  that  of  the  at- 
mosphere ;  and,  therefore,  pump  or  suck  up  only  the 
water,  &c.,  they  can  obtain  from  the  ground  below.  In 
summer,  the  water  in  the  earth  is  cooler  than  the  air ; 
and  the  plants,  having  absorbed  it  by  their  roots,  evolve 
it  through  their  stems  and  leaves,  dispensing  freshness 
around  us. 


30  HUMANIC5. 

To  germinate,  plauts  concentrate  heat  in  their  seeds 
and  germ-cells — to  generate,  tliev  collect  it  in  their 
pistils,  stamens,  and  sperm-cells.  Dm'ing  both  these 
processes  in  plants,  the  heat  is  greatest  in  those  parts 
which  perfomi  the  function  in  progress. 

''  May  we  not  therefore  conclude  that  natm-e  has 
given  to  plants  the  power  of  extricating  for  the?n^elv€S 
an  additional  supply  of  caloric,  at  the  important  periods 
of  hybernation,  germination,  and  impregnation?" 

Let  us  note,  enjxissant^  that  the  organisms  of  plants 
(as  well  as  of  animals)  ai'e  varied  with,  and  adapted  to, 
the  temperature  of  the  localities  in  which  they  are 
found. 

Thus  geographers  are  able  to  divide  the  world  into 
regions  of  altitude,  of  latitude,  and  of  surface,  to  which 
certain  plants,  animals,  and  races  of  men  are  aboriginal : 
they  class  the  Proteacea,  the  Kangai'oo,  and  the  Aus- 
tralian in  one  group — the  Banian,  the  Elephant,  and 
Hindoo  in  another,  A:c.  Different  plants,  like  different 
races  of  men,  have  their  appropriate  climates ;  but  cli- 
mate, as  a  cause,  is  not  sufficient  to  explain  the  vai-ie* 
ties  ;  so  that  the  design  of  God,  and  the  intervention  of 
his  Wisdom  and  Will  in  the  distribution  of  the  laws  of 
organic  motion  and  formation  must  be  proclaimed. 

Plants  are  aduaUy  sensible  to  Electricity. — It  has 
long  been  known  that  Electiicity  influences  the  growth 
of  plants.  Pouillet's  experiments  demonsti-ate  that 
during  the  process  of  vegetation,  electricity  is  constant- 


VITALITY.  31 

ly  generated ;  and  this,  also,  during  the  process  of 
decomposition.  ''  If  a  wire  be  placed  in  apposition 
with  the  bark  of  a  growing  plant,  and  another  be  passed 
into  the  pith,  contrary  electrical  states  are  indicated, 
when  tested  by  an  electrometer.  If  platinum  wires 
be  passed  into  the  two  extremities  of  a  fruit,  they  will 
be  found  to  present  opposite  conditions.  In  some  fruits, 
as  the  apple  or  pear,  the  stalk  is  negative  and  the  eye 
positive,  whilst  in  such  as  the  peach  or  apricot,  the 
contrary  state  exists.  If  a  prune  be  divided  equato- 
rially,  and  the  juice  be  squeezed  into  two  vessels,  the 
portions  will  in  like  manner  indicate  opposite  electrical 
states,  although  no  diflerence  can  be  perceived  in  their 
chemical  qualities." 

Kow,  the  author  from  whom  I  have  copied  this 
passage,  adds :  ''  All  that  has  been  said  of  the  effects 
of  vegetation,  in  producing  a  disturbance  of  electric 
equilibrium,  will  manifestly  apply  to  the  nutritive  pro- 
cesses of  animals  also ;  and  there  is  no  deficiency  of 
indications  that  such  is  the  case.''* 

Nor  does  he  fail  to  recite  them. 

The  respiration  of  carbonic  acid  gas,  and  the  expi- 
ration of  oxvc!:en  and  carbon,  bv  vesretation,  is  too  well 
known  to  need  any  description  here ;  but,  let  it  be  noted, 
that  the  breathing  of  animals  is  an  ad  or  movement  as 
entirely  involuntary  and  automatic  as  it  is  in  plants. 

*  Carpenter's  Com.  Anatomy,  p.  462. 


32  HunAyics. 

Yet  it  i=  motion  or  action  in  hoth- 

Xo  volition  or  design  of  tlie  individual  has  any  thing 
whatever  to  do  with  it.  It  goes  on  passivelv.  just  as  a 
machine  does  when  supplied  with  the  element  of  pro- 
pulsion. Inside  the  organism,  as  in  a  steam  engine, 
there  is  a  chemical  fi>rce  or  action  which  seizes  and  de- 
comp<>ses  the  fueL  The  only  difference  is,  that  in  one 
eaee  the  fuel  is  carried  to  the  furnace  by  the  act  of 
man,  and  in  the  other  it  is  supplied  by  the  act  of  God. 

In  iKfXh  cas£<  the  instrument,  whether  machine  or 
organism,  vegetable  or  man,  is  uncorusc^twj^  of  its  own 
movement  in  reducing  the  Sienal  gases  to  their  elements. 
Man  may  know  that  he  breathes,  but  his  knowledge 
takes  no  part  in  the  action.  In  fact,  the  breathing  of 
animalr  goes  on  during  %h^jj  /  and  Buffon  very  forcibly 
says  : 

'•  A  plant  is  an  animal  asleep." 

Yet,  with  all  this  unconsciousness,  the  leaves  ('thcee 
bronches  or  lungs  of  plants^  must,  to  fulfil  their  functions, 
be  free  to  assume  a  suitable  position,  and  are  ca^KLMe  of 
^f/nfjs  to  place  themselves  in  that  necessary  position. 

The  upper  surface  of  a  leaf  is  provided  with  a  tough 
and  glossy  cuticle,  which  serves  as  a  protection  to  its 
delicate  pores  and  cells.  Xow,  if  we  try  to  change  the 
relative  position  of  the  two  sides  of  the  leaf^  if  we  place 
the  upper  side  down,  so  as  to  expose  the  tender  parts, 
soon  will  we  see  the  leaf  turn  upc»n  its  axis  to  resume 
its  original  and  proper  attitude,  and  finally  set  its  shel- 
tering roof  again  towards  the  sky,  go  as  to  shed  the  rain 


TITALITY.  33 

and  reflect  the  light.  Like  the  sleeping  man  who 
''  tnms  in  his  bed,'*  the  unconscious  plant  has  an  in- 
stinct to  put  the  body  in  the  best  posture  for  the  com- 
fortable play  of  its  organs. 

Plants  procure  their  food. — It  is  erroneous  to  suppose 
that  when  a  plant  is  in  want  of  nutriment,  it  remains 
passive.  On  the  contrary,  it  S£<1c^  its  proper  food  and 
taJces  it,  if  within  its  reach. 

K  a  rose-tree  is  planted  on  the  verge-line  between 
two  different  soils,  this  fertile  and  that  sterile,  the 
roots,  as  soon  as  they  adhere  to  the  earth,  will  begin  to 
spread  in  all  directions  ;  but  soon  those  which  have  en- 
tered the  sterile  ground  turn  off  from  their  course,  as  if 
they  had  found  out  that  their  mates  enjoyed  better  fare. 
A  bend  is  formed,  and  the  roots  grow  in  the  direction 
of  the  richer  ground.  Xow,  if  (to  prevent  these  greedy 
travellers  from  interfering  with  their  well-fed  neigh- 
bors) a  ditch  is  dug  on  the  line  of  demarcation,  the 
poorly-fed  roots  will  grow  first  downwards,  and  then 
under  the  ditch,  till  they  reach  the  more  congenial 
juices  they  started  to  obtain. 

Plants  drt/ii:.— VTho  is  not  familiar  with  the  effects 
exhibited  when  the  dry  oroimd  around  plants  is  moist- 
ened from  the  wateriug-p<»t,  or  by  a  shower  of  rain  i 
The  thirsty  vegetation,  with  the  tiny  throats  of  its  roots 
and  epidermis,  takes  up  the  liquid  boon,  and  becomes 
refreshed  and  invigorated.     Call  this  absorption  if  you 


34  HUMANICS. 

please  ;  but  remember  that  special  organs  are  appro- 
priated to  the  purpose.  The  "  spongioles  "  are  the  or- 
gans specially  destined  for  introducing  the  fluid  nutri- 
ment into  the  system.  These  spongioles  are  located  in 
the  root  of  the  plant,  and  are  beautifully  adapted  to  the 
object.  Many  of  the  lo^Yer  animals  are  no  better  pro- 
vided, and  some  (the  Actiniform  and  Alegonian  polypes, 
for  instance)  receive  water  by  simple  transudation. 
Man  also  has  his  absorbent  vessels  operating  impercep- 
tibly to  him.  But  it  is  said  the  higher  animals  seek 
for,  find  and  swallow  the  water  they  need.  Yea ;  and 
so  do  the  higher  plants. 

"  Thus,"  says  the  Journal  of  the  Eoyal  Agricultural 
Society,  "  it  was  noticed  that  when  the  water  of  the 
Kew  Hiver  wns  conveyed  through  wooden  pipes,  that 
if  these  pipes  were  carried  w^ithin  thirty  yards  of  trees, 
the  roots  ^xovldi  find  the  joints  of  the  pipes,  and  fill  the 
interior  with  foxtails  of  fibres."  "  It  is  well  known  to 
the  Agriculturalist,"  says  the  Gardener's  Magazine, 
"  that  the  course  of  large  drains,  even  at  a  considerable 
depth  in  the  ground,  is  liable  to  be  interrupted  by  the 
extension  of  roots  not  only  from  trees,  but  also  from 
apparently  insignificant  plants.  Thus  at  Saucethorpe 
in  Lincolnshire,  a  drain  nine  feet  deep  was  filled 
up  by  the  roots  of  an  elm  tree  which  was  growing  at 
upwards  of  fifty  yards  from  the  drain."  The  Magazine 
cites  many  other  examples,  and  among  the  rest :  "  a 
lime  tree  which  grew  at  a  distance  of  about  fifteen  feet 
from  the  shaft  of  a  well,  sent  a  single  root  through  the 


VITALITY.  35 

soil  in  a  direct  line  towards  a  point  of  the  shaft  at 
which  there  was  a  small  aperture  left  hy  the  deficiency 
of  a  hrich :  this  aperture  was  at  a  height  above  the 
level  of  the  water  in  the  well,  but  the  root  having  past 
through  it,  divided  into  a  bush-like  mass  of  fibres  which 
descended  into  the  water ^  and  formed  a  large  mass  at 
the  bottom  of  the  well."  Countless  instances,  fully  as 
remarkable  as  this,  might  be  adduced  ;  but  it  is  useless. 
Every  cultivator  and  botanist  knows  full  well,  that 
plants  can  and  do  "go  to  drink."  As  the  plant  cannot 
remove  itself  to  a  new  situation,  it  overcomes  this  diffi- 
culty by  an  elongation  of  its  radial  fibres. 

Hundreds  of  instances  parallel  to  the  above  might 
be  selected  from  the  natural  history  of  animals. 

Here  is  one  extracted  from  a  recent  number  of  the 
''  Scientific  A^nerican :  " 

"  Fishes  Teavelling  by  Land  : — Dr.  Hancock,  in  the 
Zoological  Journal,  gives  a  description  of  a  fish  called 
the  flat-head  hassar,  that  travels  to  pools  of  water  when 
that  in  which  it  has  resided  dries  up.  Bose  also  de- 
scribes another  variety  which  is  found  in  South  Carolina, 
and,  if  our  memory  serves  us  well,  also  in  Texas,  which, 
like  the  flat-head,  leaves  the  drying  pools  in  search  of 
others.  These  fishes,  filled  with  water,  travel  by  niglit, 
one  with  a  lizard-like  motion,  and  the  other  by  leaps. 
The  South  Carolina  and  Texas  varieties  are  furnished 
with  a  membrane  over  the  mouth,  in  which  they  are 
enabled  to  carry  with  them  a  supply  of  water  to  keep 
their   gills  moist  during  their  travel.     These  fishes, 


36  HUMANICS. 

guided  by  some  peculiar  sense,  always  travel  in  a 
straight  line  to  the  nearest  water.  Tliis  they  do  with- 
out the  aid  of  memory,  for  it  has  been  found  that  if  a 
tub  filled  with  water  is  sunk  in  the  ground  near  one  of 
these  pools,  which  they  inliabit,  they  will,  when  the 
pool  dries  up,  move  direct^  toward  the  tub.  Surely 
this  is  a  wonderful  and  merciful  provision  for  the 
preservation  of  these  kind  of  fishes ;  for,  inhabiting,  as 
they  do,  only  stagnant  pools,  and  that  too,  in  countries 
subject  to  long  and  periodical  droughts,  their  races 
w^ould,  but  for  this  provision,  become  extinct." 

Now,  if  we  attribute  the  action  of  the  new-born 
child  who  instantly  begins  to  suck  his  mother's  breast — 
the  action  of  the  sick  dog  cropping  the  herb  which 
makes  him  vomit — the  action  of  the  young  duck  resort- 
ing to  the  water — the  action  of  the  fox  dodging  and 
misleading  the  hunters — the  action  of  the  bee  and 
beaver  building  their  cell  or  dam,  to  intelligence  of 
any  kind,  consistent  reason  would  oblige  us  to  confess 
that  the  action  of  plants,  in  seeking  food  and  drink,  is 
also  intelligent ;  for  the  two  courses  of  action  are  es- 
sentially alike.  We  w^ould  thus  tacitl}^  or  expressly 
admit  that  plants  possess  a  quantum  of  intelligence  in 
themselves,  sufiicient  for  the  uses  of  their  organism; 
but  knowing  that  such  is  not  the  case,  that  it  would  be 
doing  violence  to  language  and  fact  to  apply  the  term 
''intelligent,"  to  any  act  or  motion  of  plants,  we  find  it 
necessary,  absolutely  necessary  to  reverse  the  case  ^  and  to 
find  in  the  "  vegetative  "  functions  and  forces  of  animals 


VITALITY.  37 

the  laws  of  their  action  in  seeking,  selecting,  and  con- 
suming their  food,  etc.  By  this  reversion,  order  at 
once  appears ;  and  the  iiwpidses  of  vitality  and  instinct 
(in  man,  as  well  as  in  other  animals  and  vegetables) 
being  once  known,  however  complex  they  may  be,  as 
distinct  from  the  deliberations  of  thought,  they  may 
then  be  comprehended. 

Plants  copulate  and  hreed. — ^To  fulfil  this  function 
they  are  capable  of  movements  or  acts  of  great  com- 
plexity, similar  to  the  movements  and  acts  of  animals 
in  the  process  of  fecundation  and  reproduction  ;  and  it 
is  impossible  to  discover  any  essential  difference,  in 
this  order  of  phenomena,  between  vegetable  and  ani- 
mal organisms. 

To  show  this — to  show  that  there  is  nothing  especi- 
ally animal  in  the  act  of  generation,  but  that  it  is  with 
every  functional  and  sensible  motion  connected  with  it, 
equally  vegetative,  it  is  only  necessary  to  make  a  com- 
parison between  tlie  two  kingdoms — taking  the  animal 
as  the  pivot  of  the  comparison. 

1.  Animals  have  two  sexes. 

Since  more  than  a  century  the  distinction  of  gender 
is  known  to  exist  in  plants. 

2.  Some  animals  are  hermaphrodites. 

A  great  number  of  plants  are  in  the  same  con- 
dition. 

3.  Some  animals  (the  Helix  and  other  univalves) 


38  HUMANICS. 

have  both  sexes  distinct  in  each  individual,  but  to  be 
impregnated  they  require  another  individual  having 
also  this  double  sex,  and  the  act  of  conjugation  is  done 
by  the  double  pair. 

The  Mulberry  and  other  Linnsean  Monsecia  are 
adapted  to  this  mode  of  generation. 

4.  In  many  classes  of  animals,  and  indeed  in  the 
greatest  number,  the  individuals  are  of  different  and 
separate  sex. 

All  the  Dioecia  are  in  this  state ;  the  sexes  in  this 
class  of  plants  being  not  only  in  separate  flowers,  but 
in  different  individuals. 

5.  Many  animals  fecundate  by  couples,  and  by 
approach  and  conjugation. 

At  the  period  of  fecundation  of  certain  species  of 
confervse,  the  two  tubes  which  are  the  sexual  organs 
of  the  plant,  approach,  meet,  and  intergroove ;  and 
then,  the  male  tube  ejects  a  thick,  greenish  liquid, 
which  enters  the  female  tube  and  there  coagulates ; 
but  in  time,  it  breaks  the  sheath,  and  comes  forth  a 
ready  formed,  though  tiny,  plant. 

6.  The  fecundation  of  many  birds,  reptiles,  &c., 
consists  in  mere  contact. 

So  it  is  with  some  plants  which  are  reproduced  by 
the  mere  contact  of  "  germ  cells,"  and  ''  sperm  cells." 

7.  The  male  among  fishes  casts  its  spawn  upon  the 
waters ;  and  the  current  or  wave  carries  it  to  the  eggs 
the  female  has  left  upon  the  sand. 

Similar  to  this  is  the  well-known  fact,  that  there 


VITALITY.  39 

are  male  flowers  whicli  cast  their  pollen  into  tlie  air, 
and  that  the  winds  convey  it  to  the  distant  female. 

8.  Many  animals  are  viviparous,  producing  a  live 
progeny. 

The  lilies  and  other  such  plants,  produce  little  plants 
already  formed  at  the  moment  of  birth. 

9.  Many  animals  (birds,  reptiles,  &c.)  are  viviparous  ; 
that  is  to  say,  are  reproduced  by  eggs. 

The  seeds  of  plants,  are  really  vegetable  eggs. 

10.  Animals  in  the  act  of  generation  evince  signs 
of  the  most  energetic  sensibility. 

So  do  plants :  the  Arum,  for  instance,  evolves  a 
burning  heat,  and  changes  color  during  the  process  of 
conjugation. 

11.  The  polypus  is  multiplied  by  division. 
Plants  are  reproduced  from  cuttings. 

This  parallel  might  be  carried  much  further  ;  and  a 
volume  of  details  might  be  adduced  to  show  that  the 
generation  of  animals  and  of  vegetables  should  be  re- 
cognized physiologically  as  identical  phenomena.  If 
the  modus  varies  among  animals,  it  also  varies  among 
vegetables ;  but  an  essential  parity  can  always  be 
pointed  out. 

At  the  same  time,  I  call  attention  to  the  fact,  that 
vegetctbles  move  themselves — perform  visible  movements 
to  accomplish  the  generative  function. 

It  is  generally  known  : 

That  the  "  stamen  "  hends  itself  to  kiss  the  ''  pistil," 
and  impart  the  "  pollen." 


40  HUMANICS. 

That  the  '•  spore  "  detuches  itself— the  ''  spiral- 
filiment "  lohirls  itself  out  of  its  own  cell  to  enter  into 
the  "  germ  cell,"  or  female  organ. 

Tliat  a  "capsule"  when  its  seed  is  ripe,  will  sud- 
denly open  itself,  curl  its  palms  inwards,  and  as  by  a 
spring  cast  or  scatter  its  seeds  to  a  distance  around. 

Thus,  among  animals,  when  the  male  chases  the 
female — when  he  courts  her  favor — when  in  heat  she 
gladly  yields — the  act  that  takes  place  must,  I  contend, 
be  considered  as  purely  automatic,  and  to  be  determined 
by  imj)ulse,  emotion,  instinct.  Though  the  animal  may 
be  conscious  of  these  acts,  they  are  none  the  less  involun 
tary  and  vegetal ;  for  if  they  were  not  due  to  vegetality 
alone,  and  if  sensation  were  requisite,  plants,  not  being 
possessed  of  sensation,  could  not  perform  them,  with 
such  complication  as  w^e  find  revealed  by  vegetable 
physiology. 

Plants  sleep  and  die. — They  I'equire  sleep  to  re- 
cuperate their  vital  elements,  and  they  use  the  forces 
thus  collected  to  resist  with  energy  the  advent  of 
death. 

No  fact  is  more  fully  conceded  than  the  sleep  of 
plants.  When  night  sets  in,  vitality  seems  to  retire 
from  their  periphery ;  and  the  greatest  number  indi- 
cate by  the  drooping  position  of  their  leaves,  the  closing 
of  their  flowers,  and  the  suspension  of  their  inhalation 


VITALITY.  41 

of  carbonic  acid,  that  they  are  resting  in  sleep.  Nor 
is  this  merely  the  effect  of  the  absence  of  light ;  for  it 
has  been  ascertained  that  the  leaves  of  plants  kept  con- 
stantly in  the  dark,  open  and  close  at  regular  intervals 
as  during  sleep.  De  Candolle  tried  the  effect  of  artifi- 
cial liglit  upon  them,  and  often  failed  to  disturb  the 
regularity  of  the  alternation.  Some  plants,  (like  Bats, 
&c.,)  sleep  during  the  day  and  watch  at  night.  Others 
have  their  accustomed  hours — some  go  to  sleep  in  the 
morning  or  at  mid-day,  some  at  midnight,  &c.  Thus 
naturalists,  by  selecting  certain  flowering  plants,  whose 
hours  of  sleep  were  different,  have  been  able  to  com- 
pose the  celebrated  "  Dial  of  Flora^^  which  (by  the 
opening  and  closing  of  the  flowers  of  each  plant  in  its 
turn)  gives  precise  indication  of  the  hour  of  the  day  or 
night. 

This  phenomenon  was  discovered  by  Linnaeus,  under 
the  following  circumstances  :  Having  sown  some  Lotus 
seed,  he  watched  the  progress  of  the  plants,  and  at  last 
discovered  upon  one  of  them  two  flowers.  When 
evening  came  he  could  not  find  the  flowers  again,  and 
supposed  that  some  one  had  plucked  them.  On  the 
following  morning,  to  his  great  surprise,  he  beheld 
them  again,  and  they  once  more  disappeared  at  evening. 
He  then  examined  the  plants  with  care,  and  saw  that 
at  evening  the  leaflets  had  approached  each  other,  and 
thus  concealed  the  flowers  from  view.  Struck  by  this, 
he  pursued  the  investigations  it  suggested  ;  and  the 
sleep  of  plants  became  a  scientiflc  fact. 


42  HUMANICS. 

The  death  of  plants  is,  like  that  of  animals,  occasioned 
by  every  cause  which  disturbs  their  organs  and  func- 
tions ;  and  like  animals  plants  are  able  to  resist,  within 
certain  limits,  the  attacks  of  disturbing  agents. 

The  calandala  arvenisis  folds  its  leaves  at  the  ap- 
proach of  a  tempest.  The  Mhnosci  eburina  lets  its 
foliage  hang  down  as  soon  as  the  shadow  of  a  cloud 
threatens  it  with  rain.  Thus  these,  and  other  flowers, 
guard  themselves  against  the  weather.  When  the 
storm  threatens,  the  movements  of  plants  clearly  indi- 
cate acts  of  self-preservation.  The  Quinque  folia 
spreads  its  golden  petals  in  the  form  of  a  tent  so  as  to 
shed  the  water,  but  as  soon  as  the  rain  ceases,  she  lifts 
her  petals  towards  the  sky, — the  UmhellifercB  fold  into 
the  form  of  a  cap, — the  Infmidihiilce  reverse  their 
funnels  toward  the  ground, — the  CaryophylcB  hang  their 
heads, — in  short,  every  plant  seems  to  foresee  the  dan- 
ger, and  to  use  the  means  which  nature  has  provided 
them  with  to  avoid  it. 

It  is  not  only  against  the  weather,  but  against  many 
other  accidents  that  plants  are  capable  of  self-protec- 
tion. 

Yine-like  plants  have  tendrils  which  serve  them  to 
grasp  and  hold  upon  points  of  support,  so  that  they 
cannot  be  thrown  down. 

The  Dioncea  municipcda  or  Yenus  fly-trap,  can  de- 
stroy the  insects  that  attack  them.  Their  leaves  are 
provided  with  double  lamina  fringed  with  slender  hairs, 


VITALITY.  43 

and  spread  out  like  two  wings,  but  which  suddenly 
close  as  soon  as  touched  by  the  aggressive  insect,  which 
is  thus  imprisoned  and  destroyed. 

The  Chinese  Pitches'  Plant^  which  grows  in  dry 
places,  does  not  waste  the  water  it  extracts  from  the 
ground,  but  its  leaves  are  formed  in  the  shape  of  a 
pitcher,  having  a  regular  lid,  and  hanging  by  a  tendril, 
so  as  to  hold  the  water  and  preserve  it  from  evaporation, 
for  future  use. 

The  Mimosa  pudica  is  so  vital,  that  it  is  commonly 
known  as  the  "  Sensitive  plant,"  and  has  been  cited  as 
an  example  to  show  that  plants  are  capable  of  sensa- 
tion ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  it  enables  us  to  understand 
the  muscular  contractility  of  animals  as  a  phenomena 
of  their  Yegetative  nature  distinct  from  their  nervous 
or  animal  sensibility.  The  pinnated  leaves  of  this  plant 
shrink  from  the  hand,  or  from  any  other  substance  or 
force  which  may  touch  them  ;  and  no  explanation  of 
this  movement  will  bear  examination  except  that  which 
attributes  it  to  the  recoil  (automatic  though  it  be)  of  a 
self-preservative  disposition  in  the  organism. 

The  Roots  and  other  organs  of  Plants  suffer  and  die 
under  the  influence  of  poison  and  other  uncongenial 
substances,  such  as  arsenic,  corrosive  sublimate,  opium, 
chrosine  and  the  like,  which  produce  upon  them  much 
the  same  effects  as  upon  animals  ;  but  they  are  as  ca- 
pable of  rejecting  this  injurious  matter  as  they  are  of 
selecting  their  proper  food.  Bonnet  and  Dutochet 
proved  this  by  many  experiments,  in  which  they  used 


44  HUMANICS. 

fluids  and  soils  impregnated  with  a  variety  of  solu- 
tions, sucli  as  acetate  of  lead,  common  salt,  &c.,  and 
they  found  that  the  roots  would  refuse  or  throw  back 
all  substances  imfit  for  their  economy. 

VEGETALITY  IN  ANIMALITY. 

The  preceding  facts  are  sufficient,  I  think,  to  au- 
thorize an  attempt  to  make  a  more  definite  division 
between  vegetal  and  animal  nature  conjoined,  but  dis- 
tinguishable in  animals  themselves. 

It  has  been  contended  that  an  animal  is  a  reversed 
vegetable ;  that  the  central  organs  of  the  animal  are 
found  at  the  circumference  of  vegetables ;  that  the  in- 
testines of  animals  have  the  functions  of  leaves  and 
roots  of  animals  ;  that  the  intestines  which  are  placed 
hdow  the  dia^^hragm  of  animals  to  cibsorh  and  deposit 
Cakbox  and  excrete  Oxygen,  correspond  with  the  leaves 
of  plants  which  are  above  the  earth ;  that  the  hmgs  of 
animals  and  the  roots  of  plants,  one  at  the  iipj)er  and 
the  other  at  the  lower  part,  correspond  in  ahsorjytion  of 
Oxygen  and  excretion  of  Caebon  ;  and  so  on.  Whether 
this  counter-similitude  can  be  traced  throughout,  even 
to  the  process  upon  Hydrogen  and  Nitrogen,  is  unes- 
sential to  our  purpose ;  for  certain  it  is  that  the  vital 
organs  of  animals  are  inside  the  body,  and  that  there- 
fore they  cannot  be  immediately  moved  into  activity, 
as  those  of  plants  whose  vital  organs  are  on  the  out- 
side^ and  in  direct  contact  with  the  elements  on  which 


VITALITY.  45 

they  depend  for  life  and  activity.  Hence,  for  animals 
tliere  must  be  a  medium  to  enable  tlieir  organs  to  take 
in,  and  inosculate  with,  those  elements.  Hence,  in  order 
to  enable  them  to  communicate  with  the  external  world, 
the  organs  of  respiration,  digestion,  circulation,  genera- 
tion, &c.,  in  animals  are  provided  with  nerves  which 
impel  those  organs  to  the  necessary  acts  of  aj)propria- 
tion  ;  but  we  find  upon  investigation : 

1°.  That  these  necessary  motions  for  appropriation, 
&c.,  are  not  performed  by  the  nerves,  but  are  executed 
by  the  Muscles — uncontrolled  by  thouglit. 

2°.  That  the  Nerves  are  only  the  medium  of  com- 
munication ;  and  so  lar  as  the  vital  functions  are  con- 
cerned, the  nerves  serving  them  perform  their  duty, 
independently  of  the  will^  and  even  of  consciousness. 

The  MuscuLAE  Tissues  of  the  human  body  are  the 
instruments  of  its  movements — the  nervous  threads 
convey  the  stimulus  to  or  from  the  muscles ;  and  this 
is  done  sometimes  with  and  sometimes  without  the  dic- 
tate of  the  will. 

For  all  the  operations  of  the  vital  organs — for  all 
those  operations  which  plants,  as  well  as  animals,  are 
known  to  perform — the  will  (whether  instinctive  or 
rational)  has  no  control — the  whole  movement  inter- 
nally is  purely  mechanical ;  and  I  hope  to  show  here- 
after that  even  the  external  movements  of  sub-human 
animals  are  only  the  evolutions  of  an  instinctive-will, 
however  complicated  they  may  be. 


46  HUMANICS. 

The  action  of  muscle  is  accomplished  through  its 
power  of  "  contractility y  The  muscular  fibres,  when 
irritated,  draw  themselves  into  a  condensed  form ;  and, 
when  the  stimulus  is  discontinued,  they  relax  into  their 
normal  tonicity.  This  corresponds  with  the  contraction 
and  relaxation  of  certain  vegetable  tissues,  (Dionse,  &c.,) 
of  which  the  component  cells,  when  irritated,  produce 
a  movement  by  means  of  a  similar  change  of  form. 

"  Contractility  "  is  a  property  of  the  muscle  itself — 
'*  a  power  belonging  to  it  in  virtue  of  its  peculiar  struc- 
ture ; "  *  for  numerous  experiments  have  been  made 
upon  fibres  when  separated  from  nervous  connection ; 
and  it  is  well  settled  their  isolation  does  not  destroy 
their  energy  and  mobility.  Even  a  single  fibre,  when 
isolated,  may  (by  the  aid  of  a  microscope)  be  seen  to 
contract  and  relax ;  and  when  the  severed  leg  of  a 
Frog  or  Rabbit  has  been  set  in  motion  by  galvanism, 
and  has  ceased  to  move  though  the  galvanism  is  con- 
tinued, it  will  recover  its  power  if  allowed  to  rest^  and 
the  movement  will  re-occur  during  several  intermitted 
trials. 

The  fibres  of  each  muscle  are  arranged  in  the  direc- 
tion in  which  it  is  destined  to  act;  and  while  all  the 
muscles  exhibit  this  disposition,  a  difference  in  the  com- 
plexity of  threads,  gives  two  kinds  of  muscle — 1°,  the 
striated,  which  act  when  stimulus  is  applied  by  the  will 
through  the  nerves  ;  and  2°,  the  non-striated,  which  the 
will  cannot  infliience. 

*  Carpenter's  Elements  of  Physiology. 


VITALITY.  47 

When  a  single  striated  fibre  is  touclied  by  any  irri- 
tating substance,  it  contracts  singly  and  alone,  and  does 
not  communicate  its  motion  to  any  other;  but  when 
the  stimulus  is  applied  by  the  will,  through  the  nerves, 
all  the  striated  fibres  composing  the  muscle  will  con- 
tract simultaneously. 

When  a  non-striated  fibre  is  irritated,  its  contrac- 
tion will  communicate  itself  to  the  others  successively, 
so  that  by  a  single  touch  a  wave  of  contraction  and  re- 
laxation is  transmitted  in  the  direction  of  the  length  of 
the  muscle. 

Thus,  it  seems,  there  are  active  muscles — muscles 
which  move,  and  yet  are  purely  vegetative ;  while  there 
are  others  which,  though  retaining  their  vegetality,  are 
modified  so  as  to  be  roused  into  action  by  the  signals 
of  animal  sensation  or  the  dictates  of  animal  will ;  and 
hence  we  might  here  draw  a  line  to  distinguish  the 
striated  fibres  as  anhnalized  muscle,  and  the  non-striated 
as  vegetative  muscle. 

But  let  us  pursue  our  inquiry  into  the  indejpendent 
ACTIVITY  of  muscular  tissue. 

Contractility  persists  for  a  time  after  death,  particu- 
larly in  the  limbs  of  cold-blooded  animals,  whose  respi- 
ration, like  that  of  plants,  is  low.  Tlie  heart  of  a  Frog 
will  continue  to  beat  many  hours  after  its  removal  from 
the  body  ;  and  the  Sturgeon's  heart  hung  up  to  dry,  has 
been  seen  to  continue  beating  until  the  auricle  had  be- 
come so  hard  as  to  rustle  dm  'w-^j:  its  movements. 


48  HUMANICS. 

Contractility  exhibits  itself  when  the  fibre  is  touched 
by  any  strong  chemical  or  even  any  solid  inert  sub- 
stance. The  same  result  is  produced  by  heat,  cold,  and 
electricity. 

Nor  is  contractility  the  only  active  power  possessed 
by  the  unsentient  tissues  of  the  body.  They  have  a  se- 
lecting energy,  which  enables  them  to  seize  their  appro- 
priate materials  in  requisite  proportion.  Their  differ- 
ences of  density  and  contexture — tlie  variety  in  the 
proportions  of  their  elements — render  it  necessary  that 
they  should  be  able  to  make  a  proper  and  measured 
extrication  out  of  the  current  of  circulation,  or  that  cir- 
culation should  give  to  each  organ  its  exact  and  special 
due ;  yet  the  supply  takes  place  from  the  common 
reservoir  of  chyle,  &c.,  in  precise  accordance  with  the 
necessary  quality  and  quantity. 

"  Selectility  "  is,  therefore,  another  active  and  admi- 
rable property  of  the  vegetative  tissues.  It  exists,  as  we 
have  already  shown,  in  plants,  and  serves  more  thor- 
oughly to  identify  the  non-striated  tissues  with  vegeta- 
tion. 

Nov  is  the  choice  of  congenial  elements  tlie  only 
evidence  of  the  Selectility  of  fibrous  tissues — the  local 
efi*ects  and  distribution  of  certain  Medicines  and  Poisons 
are  well  known;  and  are  forcible  illustrations  of  this 
unconscious  discrimination  in  the  processes  of  Vi- 
tality. 


VITALITY.  49 

The  Keevous  System,  physiologically  studied,  sus- 
tains our  views  of  vegetality  in  animality. 

In  fact,  there  are  certain  classes  of  nerves  and  modes 
of  nervous  activity  j^urely  mechanical,  and  entirely 
foreign  to  conscious  sensibility. 

"  It  is,"  says  Carpenter's  Physiology,  "  easily  estab- 
lished by  experiment,  that  the  active  powers  of  the 
nervous  system  reside  in  the  ganglia;  and  that  the 
trunks  serve  merely  as  conductors  of  the  influence 
which  is  to  be  propagated  towards  or  from  them.  If  a 
nervous  ganglion  is  destroyed,  all  the  parts  supplied 
by  its  nerves  are  paralyzed,  but  if  a  nervous  trunk  is 
divided,  and  then  the  portion  still  connected  with  the 
ganglion  is  pinched,  sensations  are  felt ;  but  it  is  not 
so  when  the  severed  portion  of  the  trunk  is  irritated,  for 
in  this  case  nothing  is  felt,  but  a  motor  influence  is 
communicated  to  the  muscle."  Indeed,  it  is  now  well 
settled,  by  the  experiments  •  of  Sir  C.  Bell,  that  some 
nerves  are  purely  sympathetic^  transmitting  the  stimulus 
of  vegetative  functions ;  that  other  nerves  are  purely 
motor ^  distributing  locomotive  impulse;  that  others 
again  are  purely  sensitive^  conducting  the  influences  of 
the  external  world. 

The  Sympathetic  Serves  are  those,  appertaining 
to  the  organs  of  absorption,  respiration,*  ingestion,  di- 
gestion, circulation,  assimilation,  exhalation,  secretion, 
excretion,  and  generation,  composed,  as  we  have  seen, 
of  non-striated  muscle,  &c.  This  class  of  nerves  do  not 
4 


50  HUMANICS. 

belong  to  tlie  sensorium  proper,  nor  to  the  brain — they 
exhibit  no  sensibility;  and  thus  in  due  and  logical 
parity  do  we  find  the  insensitive  nerve  connected  with 
the  insensitive  viscera.  AYe  say  insensitive  so  far  as 
communication  with  the  brain  is  concerned ;  for  the 
feelings  of  pain  or  pleasure  experienced  by  the  viscera, 
&c.,  are  only  known  to  the  sensorium  through  the  irri- 
tation of  tissue  indirectly  afi*ecting  the  sensory  nerves. 
Hence  the  term  "  sympathetic.'^''  Under  all  circum- 
stances these  nerves  convey  no  knowledge  of  the  vis- 
ceral movements  /  for  their  duty  is  only  to  impress  the 
other  tissues  with  feelings  of  sexual  ardor,  atmospheric 
pressure,  impeded  circulation,  necessity  of  nutrition, 
&c. ;  and  though  they  produce  a  reaction  upon  the 
sensitive  nerves,  they  are  positively  independent  of  the 
m^otor ;  or,  in  other  words,  they  are  not  controlled  by 
the  will. 

Hence,  in  the  veiled  recesses  of  our  body  the  wheels, 
cords,  valves,  pumps,  furnaces,  and  regulators  of  ]ieat, 
electricity,  &c.,  move  in  harmonious  evolutions,  and 
are  incessantly  at  their  wonderful  work  without  our 
help,  and  without  our  being  able  to  know  what  they 
are  doing. 

Hence  when,  in  the  lower  orders  of  animals,  zoos- 
pores, mollusca,  &c.,  we  behold  vital  and  visible  action 
displayed,  though  the  animal  has  no  nerves^  or  if  nerves 
exist  no  senses,  we  may  at  last  understand  that  the 
movements  of  organism  are  the  attribute  of  vitality 
and  not  of  sensation,  for  movement  takes  place  with- 
out sensation  and  even  without  nerves. 


VITALITY.  51 

The  office  of  sympathetic  nerves  merits  our  special 
attention. 

The  nerves  of  sensibility  hold  towards  the  sympa- 
thetic nerves  the  same  relation  as  towards  the  external 
world. 

The  sensitive  nerves  are  affected  by  exteimal  pheno- 
mena^ bnt  the  senses  do  not  in  turn  affect  or  influence 
outward  things. 

The  sensitive  nerves  are  affected  by  the  sympa- 
thetic nerves^  but  the  senses  do  not  in  turn  affect  or  in- 
fluence the  sympathetic  nerves. 

The  motor  system  transmits  no  stimulus  or  motion 
to  the  sympathetic. 

Thus  we  find  the  circuit  to  be  this  :  An  original 
stimulus  arises  in  the  tissues  of  vegetative  life ; — the 
stomach,  lungs,  and  other  viscera,  by  their  own  irrita- 
tion or  relaxation  :  the  sym2)athetic  nerves  call  for  nu- 
triment ;  this  call  is  distributed  by  the  sympathetic 
nerves  to  their  ganglia  and  to  the  spinal  cord ;  here 
the  feeling  is  at  once  conveyed  to  the  motor  nerve&, 
which  immediately  impress  the  muscular  fibre  with 
notice  to  comply  w^ith  the  demands  of  the  viscera ; 
this  stimulus  imparted  to  the  fibre  is  perceived  by  the 
nerves  of  sense,  and  these  also  join  in  carrying  stimu- 
lus to  the  motors,  and  in  enlightening  them  in  their 
work.  But  neither  the  sensitive  nor  motor  nerves  act 
upon  the  viscera — they  awake  the  limbs,  &c.,  to  out- 
ward action ;  to  gathering  food,  or  seeking  an  objeet 
of  sexual  desire. 


52  HUMANICS. 

The  circuit  passes  to  the  external  world  before  it 
re-enters  the  viscera  in  the  shaj)e  of  food,  or  is  re- 
united in  the  form  of  sexual  connection. 

This  leads  us  to  infer  that  the  nerves  which  appear 
first  in  lower  orders  of  animals,  are  of  the  sympathetic 
kind.  As  long  as  the  fibres  are  so  vascular  that  they 
can  be  excited  by  immediate  contact  with  the  elements, 
they  need  no  nerves — hence  certain  mollusca  have  in 
fact  no  nerves ;  but  w^hen  the  first  envelope  is  thick 
enough  to  prevent  immediate  contact,  the  internal 
parts  require  nerves  to  carry  their  irritability  to  the 
circumference,  and  induce  the  contractility  of  the 
tunic.  Hence  we  may,  with  the  physiologists,  con- 
sider a  polypus  as  being  only  a  stomachy  having  its 
sympathetic  nerves  to  arouse  the  activity  of  its  cortex 
for  the  ingestion  of  nutriment. 

Like  vegetality,  animality  progresses  in  series  of 
greater  and  greater  complexity  of  primary  organs 
and  tlie  accession  of  new  ones.  Every  order  as  it 
ramifies  from  its  proximate  stem  presents  some  pecu- 
liar development  or  superaddition  ;  but  the  original 
parts  remain,  and  retain  their  initial  properties.  They 
retain  their  distinctness  so  as  to  aflord  us  additional 
proof  of  the  multiple  nature  of  man.  The  vital  nerves, 
for  instance,  are  the  only  nerves  found  in  the  Hydra, 
an  animal  consisting  only  of  a  stomach  ;  but  when  in 
higher  animals  we  find  sensitive  nerves  and  members 
annexed,  still  the  stomach  and  its  nerves  retain  their 


VITALITY.  53 

distinctness.  Its  nerves  remain  so  free  that  the  sensi- 
tive do  not  command  them.  The  sensitive  nerves 
which  are  superadded  in  the  progress  of  animality,  in- 
directly receive  impressions  from  the  sympathetic  sys- 
tem, but  cannot  impart  any  to  it. 

Hence,  though  a  starving  man  may  (through  moral 
and  intellectual  conviction)  resist  the  temptation  to 
steal  the  food  within  his  reach,  yet  his  organs  of  nutri- 
tion will  persist  in  their  demands  and  provocation.  So 
also  with  sexual  desire,  &c. 

Tlie  natural  and  spiritual  body  contend  against  each 
other  for  supremacy  over  the  motor  nerves ;  and  too 
often  does  the  flesh  prevail. 

The  Motor  nerves  now  require  our  attention. 
They  proceed  from  the  Spinal-cord,  Cerebellum,  and 
Medulla  Oblongata. 

These  nerves,  though  frequently  under  the  direction 
of  the  thinking  will  of  man  or  the  instinctive  will  of 
animals,  are  as  frequently  the  mere  agents  of  uncon- 
scious reaction. 

They  may  be  directly  influenced  by  the  irritation 
(not  sensation)  of  the  tissues. 

Of  this  fact  the  proofs  are  abundant ;  for  many  in- 
stances of  moveinent  due  to  the  motor  nerves  indej^end- 
ently  of  the  sensitive,  can  be  cited ;  and  without  fur- 
ther preamble  I  will  adduce  a  few  : 

1.  "If  the  spinal-cord  of  a  Frog,"  says  Carpenter's 
General  Physiology,  ''  be  divided  in  its  back,  above 


54  HUMANICS. 

the  crural  plexus,  so  as  entirely  to  cut  off  the  nerves 
of  the  lower  extremities  from  connection  with  the  brain, 
the  animal  loses  all  voluntary  control  over  these  limbs, 
and  no  sign  of  pain  is  produced  by  any  injury  done  to 
them ;  hut  they  are  not  thereby  rendered  motionless ; 
for  various  stimuli  applied  to  the  limbs  themselves  will 
cause  movements  in  them.  Thus,  if  the  skin  of  the 
foot  be  pinched,  or  if  a  flame  be  applied  to  it,  the  leg 
will  be  violently  retracted.  Or,  if  the  cloaca  be  irri- 
tated by  a  probe,  the  feet  will  endeavor  to  push  away 
the  instrument.  Still,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  the  animal  feels  the  irritation,  or  intends  to  exe- 
cute these  movements  in  order  to  escape  from  it ;  for 
motions  of  a  similar  kind  are  exhibited  by  men  who 
have  suffered  injury  of  the  lower  part  of  the  spinal 
cord,  and  who  are  utterly  unconscious  either  of  the 
irritation  which  their  limbs  receive  or  of  the  actions 
which  they  perform." 

2.  "  If  the  head  of  a  Centipede,"  says  Carpenter, 
*'  be  cut  off  wdiilst  it  is  in  motion,  the  body  will  con- 
tinue to  move  onward  by  the  regular  and  successive 
action  of  the  legs  as  in  the  natural  state  ;  but  its  move- 
ments are  always  forwards,  never  backwards.  They 
are  carried  on,  as  it  were  mechanically ;  and  show  no 
direction  of  object,  no  avoidance  of  danger.  If  the 
body  be  opposed  in  its  progress  by  an  obstacle  of  not 
more  than  half  of  its  own  height  it  mounts  over  it,  and 
moves  directly  onwards  as  in  its  natural  state ;  but  if 
the  obstacle  be  equal  to  its  own  height  its  progress  is 


VITALITY.  55 

arrested ;  and  the  cut  extremity  of  the  body  remains 
forced  up  against  the  opposing  substance,  tlie  legs  still 
contiiiumg  to  move.'''' 

3.  "  If  again  the  nervous  cords  of  a  Centipede  be 
divided  in  the  middle  of  the  trunk  so  that  the  hinder 
legs  are  cut  off  from  connection  with  the  cephalic 
ganglia,  they  will  continue  to  move,  but  not  in  har- 
mony with  those  of  the  upper  part  of  the  body,"  &c. 
"  They  are  still  capable  of  performing  reflex  move- 
ments by  the  influence  of  their  own  ganglia,  which 
may  thus  continue  to  propel  the  body,  in  o]3position  to 
the  determination  of  the  animal  itself.  The  case  is 
still  more  remarkable  when  a  portion  of  the  nervous 
cord  is  entirely  removed  from  the  middle  of  the  trunk ; 
for  then  1st,  the  anterior  legs  will  remain  obedient  to 
the  animal's  control ;  2d,  the  legs  of  the  segments 
from  which  the  nervous  cord  is  removed  are  motion- 
less i  whilst  3d,  those  of  the  posterior  segments  con- 
tinue to  act  through  the  reflex  powers  of  their  own 
ganglia,  in  a  manner  which  shows  that  the  animal  has 
no  power  of  checking  or  directing  them." 

4.  "  If  the  head  of  a  Centipede  be  cut  off,  and 
while  it  remains  at  ]*est,  some  irritating  vapor  (such 
as  ammonia  or  muriatic  acid)  be  caused  to  enter  the 
air  tubes  on  one  side  of  the  trunk,  the  body  will  be  im- 
mediately bent  in  the  opposite  direction,  so  as  to  with- 
draw itself  as  much  as  possible  from  the  influence  of 
the  vapor.  If  the  same  irritation  be  then  applied  on 
the  other  side  the  reverse  movement  will  take  place ; 


56  HUMANICS. 

and  the  body  may  be  caused  to  bend  in  two  or  three 
different  curves  by  bringing  the  irritating  vapor  into 
the  neighborhood  of  different  parts  of  either  side. 
This  movement  is  evidently  a  reflex  one,"  &c. 

5.  "  Every  one  knows,"  says  Carpenter,  "  that  the 
adjustment  of  the  size  of  the  pupil  to  the  amount  of 
light,  is  effected  without  any  exertion  of  the  will  on 
our  part,  and  even  without  any  consciousness  that  it  is 
taking  place.  It  is  performed,  too,  during  profound 
sleep  ;  when  the  influence  of  light  upon  the  retina  ex- 
cites no  consciousness  of  its  presence — when  no  sensa- 
tion, therefore,  is  produced  by  it." 

6.  "  A  Dytiscus  (a  kind  of  water  beetle)  having  had 
its  cephalic  ganglia  (or  brain)  removed,  remained  mo- 
tionless so  long  as  it  rested  on  a  dry  surface,  but  when 
cast  into  water  it  executed  the  usual  swimming  mo- 
tions witli  great  energy  and  rapidity,  striking  all  its 
comrades  to  one  side  by  its  violence,  and  persisting  in 
these  for  more  than  half  an  hour." 

7.  "  That  the  Cerebro-Spinal-Axis  is  a  distinct  cen- 
tre of  automatic  action,  and  does  not  derive  its  power 
(as  formerly  supposed)  from  the  cerebrum,  is  made  evi- 
dent from  a  variety  of  crnsiderations.  Thus  infants 
are  sometimes  born  without  any  Cerebrum  or  Cerebel- 
lum ;  and  such  have  existed  for  several  hours  or  even 
days,  breathing,  crying,  sucking,  and  performing  vari- 
ous other  movements.  The  Cerebrum  and  Cerebellum 
have  been  experimentally  removed  from  birds  and 
young  mammalia,  and  all  their  vital  operations  have 


VITALITY.  57 

nevertheless  been  so  regularly  performed  as  to  enable 
tliem  to  live  for  weeks  and  even  months.  In  the  Am- 
phioxus  we  have  an  examj)le  of  a  completely  formed 
adult  animal,  in  which  no  rudiment  of  a  cerebrum  or 
cerebellum  can  be  detected." 

Dr.  Carpenter,*  w^itli  these  and  thousands  of  other 
such  facts  before  him,  concludes  as  follows : 

"Hence,  all  the  movements  which  are  performed 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  Cerebro-spinal-sys- 
tem  of  ganglia  and  nerves  are  essentially  automatic  j 
and  their  character  as  Reflex,  Instinctive,  Emotional, 
or  Voluntary,  is  entirely  dependent  npon  the  nature 
and  seat  of  the  impulses  which  respectiveli/  oHginate 
themP 

The  Sensoky  Kerves  are  those  which  convey  special 
sensations  of  Touch,  Taste,  Sight,  Sound,  and  Smell  to 
their  internal  centres,  the  Sensory  Ganglia  and  Cere- 
brum. 

The  sensory  ganglia  receive  the  influences  of  the 
external  or  objective  world. 

The  cerebrum  conver2:es  and  radiates  these  influ- 
ences,  resolving  them  into  the  phenomena  of  conscious- 
ness. 

Consciousness  is  the  essential  property  of  the  Cere- 
brum. Hence,  as  we  have  seen,  the  ahlation  of  the 
Cerebrum  removes  consciousness  only  ;  and  leaves  the 
sensory  nerves  and  ganglia  to  their  automatic  action 


58  HUMANICS. 

of  receiving  the  influences  of  the  objective  world — re- 
sistance, sapidity,  light,  sound,  and  order. 

In  the  absence  of  the  cerebrum  or  of  consciousness, 
the  influences  received  by  the  sensory  nerves  and 
ganglia,  act  mechanically  and  directly  upon  the  motor 
nerves,  just  as  any  stimulus  acts  upon  the  fibres  of  a 
plant  or  muscle — and  the  movements  to  which  the  motor 
nerves  are  adaj^ted,  are  determined  in  harmony  w^ith 
the  special  nature  of  the  external  impulse.  Under  these 
circumstances,  the  animal  (we  repeat  the  fact)  is  not 
conscious  of  any  feeling,  evinces  no  knowledge  of  what 
occurs  to  or  in  his  organism ;  yet  he  lives  and  moves, 
and  his  nerves  of  sensibility  convey  propelling  forces 
to  the  motor  nerves  to  which  they  are  adapted. 

The  researches  of  Flourens  have  settled  all  this  to  a 
certainty. 

From  all  the  investigations  of  the  best  physiologists 
of  the  present  time,  it  may  be  safely  assumed  as  proved 
that — 

The  Cerebrum  is  the  seat  and  radiator  of  conscious- 
ness, onty. 

The  Cerebellum  is  the  receptacle  and  distributor  of 
the  reactions  of  consciousness — so  that  the  ablation  of 
the  cerebellum  only  destroys  all  harmony  between  con- 
sciousness and  motion. 

The  Sensory  nerves  and  ganglia  are  the  receptacle 
and  distributors  of  impulses  from  the  external  world. 

The  Motor  system   is   the  complex  instrument  of 


VITALITY.  59 

motion,  provoked  either  directly  through  the  Sensory 
ganglia,  or  indirectly  through  the  Cerebrum  and  Cere- 
bellmn. 

The  SymjDathetic  System  is  the  mere  auxiliary  and 
distributor  of  vitality. 

These  fundamental  parts  being  all  within  one  body, 
and  being  interwoven,  necessarily  affect  each  other  me- 
diately or  immediately,  and  it  required  careful  analysis 
to  distinguish  their  several  portions,  the  links  between 
them,  and  the  course  of  action  of  one  upon  the  other ; 
but  now  that  the  lines  of  distinction  are  drawn,  we  find 
that  the  philosophers  of  old  who  thought  that  sensibility 
was  everywhere,  were  misled  by  the  universality  of 
movement  and  of  action  and  re-action.  They  confounded 
sensibility  and  movement,  sensibility  and  conscious- 
ness ;  though  the  three  are  clearly  distinct. 

I  have  shown  that  movement  takes  place  without 
sensibility  or  consciousness. 

I  now  show  that  movement  takes  place  through 
sensibility,  but  without  consciousness. 

The  facts  adduced  above  to  show  the  results  of  an 
ablation  of  the  whole  brain,  or  of  a  severance  of  connec- 
tions between  the  brain  and  nerves,  are  already  sufii- 
cient  to  demonstrate  the  diverseness  of  sensibility  and 
consciousness  ;  but  there  are  other  facts  still  more  direct. 

Flourens,  the  great  French  physiologist,  says,  that 


60  HUMANICS. 

when  the  cerebrum  is  carefully  removed  so  as  not  to  dis- 
turb or  injure  the  other  nervous  centres,  all  consciousness 
is  obliterated  ;  but  nothing  except  consciousness  ceases. 
The  vital  forces  and  special  senses  remain  active. 

Life,  with  its  processes  of  nutrition,  respiration, 
sleep,  &c.,  continues.  Thus,  if  a  Bird  be  the  animal 
deprived  of  its  cerebrum, 

—  it  maintains  and  recomrs  its  equilibrium, 

—  it  walks  when  pushed, 

—  it  flies  when  thrown  into  the  air, 

—  it  sleeps  at  night,  and  for  that  purpose  closes  its 
eyes,  and  puts  its  head  under  a  wing, 

—  it  eats  when  food  is  put  into  its  mouth,  but  does 
not  go  to  seek  it,  &c. 

But  what  is  most  to  our  purpose  is  the  fact  that  the 
animal  remains  subjected  to  the  performance  of  a  va- 
riety of  actions  tliroiigh  the  nerves  of  special  sense  : 

—  it  wakes  and  opens  its  eyes  when  noise  is  made, 

—  its  pupils  contract  and  dilate  with  the  increase  and 
decrease  of  light, 

—  it  is  attracted  towards  the  light,  for  it  moves  it- 
self to  the  illuminated  parts  of  the  room, 

—  it  recoils  from  an  offensive  smell, 

—  it  resists  the  ingestion  of  substances  distasteful 
as  food,  or  adverse  to  nutrition,  &c. 

Hence  sensibility  exists  exclusively  of  conscious- 
ness. 

Nor  does  the  Cerebellum  have  any  share  of  con- 
sciousness. 


VITALITY.  61 

If  the  cerebellum  is  removed,  and  the  cerebrum  is 
maintained,  motion  is  disturbed,  but  consciousness  is 
unaffected.  The  movements  consciousness  suggests 
cannot  be  duly  realized  wlien  the  cerebellum  is  sub- 
tracted. It  is  then  impossible  for  the  animal,  though 
he  is  perfectly  aware  of  what  he  ought  to  do,  to  co- 
ordinate his  motions,  or  make  them  harmonize  with  the 
dictates  of  his  will :  he  loses  his  balance ;  his  gestures 
and  steps  are  irregular  and  imperfect.  He  moves,  but 
it  seems  that  the  nerves  of  special  sense  suffer  a  reac- 
tion which  disturbs  even  the  direct  action  they  might 
have  upon  locomotion,  &c. 

Hence  motion  itself  is  not  dependent  upon  the  cere- 
bellum, but  only  that  motion  which  the  consciousness 
of  the  cerebrum  suggests. 

Hence  the  ablation  of  the  cerebellum  only  severs 
and  abates  the  indirect  connection  which  consciousness 
and  motion  had  with  one  another. 

Hence  consciousness  subsists  unaffected  by  the  ab- 
lation of  the  cerebellum,  as  long  as  the  cerebrum  ex- 
ists ;  and  while  the  animal  is  aware  of  the  disorder  of 
motion  caused  by  the  ablation  of  the  cerebellum,  he  re- 
grets but  cannot  control  that  disorder. 

Hence  consciousness  is  restricted  to  the  cerebrum 
alone  ;  and  the  cerebellum  belongs  to  the  motor  system, 
in  which  it  is  only  the  auxiliary  servant  of  the  cere- 
brum. 

The  phenomenon  of  an  organic  or  locomotive  move- 


62  HUMANICS. 

ment  resulting  directly  from  tlie  nerves  of  special  sense 
and  otlier  sensitive  ganglia,  without  the  intervention  of 
the  cerebrum^  takes  place  frequently  even  when  the 
animal  is  in  full  and  normal  possession  of  all  his  cere- 
bral organs,  including  the  cerebrum  itself. 

Of  this  kind  of  motion  the  following  examples  are 
cited  from  physiologists : 

The  start  upon  a  loud  and  unexpected  sound ; 

The  sudden  closure  of  the  eyes  to  the  dazzle  of  light 
or  at  the  approach  of  injurious  bodies ; 

The  sneezing  excited  by  an  irritation  of  the  nostril ; 

The  convulsive  laughter  induced  by  tickling ; 

The  vomiting  caused  by  tlie  sight,  smell,  or  taste  of 
something  loathsome ; 

The  yawning  occasioned  by  ennui,  depression  of 
spirits,  or  imitation ; 

The  scratching  and  handling  of  self,  and  the  thousand 
and  one  changes  of  position  of  the  body  and  its  mem- 
bers, hands,  feet,  lips,  &c.,  taking  place  imattended  to 
by  ourselves,  though  we  may  be  wide  awake. 

Tlie  body  seems  endowed  with  instincts  (apart  from 
any  volition)  to  provide  for  its  own  preservation  and 
comfort. 

Certain  it  is  that  we  are  not  simultaneously  con- 
scious of  nine-tenths  of  the  movements  of  our  limbs ; 
and  the  fact  that  consciousness,  or  its  seat  the  cerebrum, 
is  not  necessarily  concerned  with  them,  is  made  per- 
fectly apparent  by  their  taking  place  during  sleep. 

Yet,  they  do  also  take  place  xohile  we  are  awake ^ 


VITALITY.  63 

and  we  are  often  perfectly  conscious  of  their  occur- 
rence ;  but  we  are  not  thereby  to  infer  that  they  de- 
pend upon,  or  are  necessarily  determined  by  conscious- 
ness. Consciousness  may  interfere  with  them,  regulate 
or  stop  them ;  but  their  causation  is  not  in  conscious- 
ness :  else,  how  could  they  occur  during  sleep,  or  when, 
unattended  to,  or  in  animals  having  no  trace  whatever 
of  a  cerebrum  or  cerebellum  ? 

TVe  are  conscious  of  them  just  as  we  are  conscious 
of  the  movements,  &c.,  of  another  person^  or  of  a 
QTiachine  under  our  control.  Their  mutations,  &c.,  go 
on  w^ithout  our  intervention,  &c. ;  but  our  conscious- 
ness, judgment,  &c.,  might  induce  us  to  intermeddle, 
or  we  might  choose  to  refrain. 

The  acts  arising  from  the  medulla  oblongata  come 
under  this  head;  so  also  do  those  coming  out  of  the 
spinal  cord.  Breathing  and  eating,  and  even  walking, 
can  hardly  be  considered  as  being  in  the  direct  charge 
of  consciousness. 

Hence,  says  Carpenter's  Physiology,  "  the  man  who 
is  walking  through  the  streets  in  a  complete  revery,  un- 
ravelling a  knotty  subject,  or  working  out  a  mathe- 
matical problem,  performs  the  movement  of  progression, 
&c.,  with  great  regularity.  He  will  avoid  obstacles  in 
the  line  of  his  path,  and  he  will  follow  the  course  he  is 
accustomed  to  take,  though  he  may  have  intended  to 
pass  along  some  very  different  route  ;  and  it  is  not  un- 
til his  attention  is  recalled  to  his  situation  that  his  train 
of  thought  suffers  the  least  intermission,  or  that  his  will 
is  brought  to  bear  upon  his  motions." 


64  HUMANICS. 

Hence,  a  man  about  to  pass  along  a  narrow  plank  or 
tree  placed  across  a  cliasm,  intuitively  throws  out  his 
arms  to  balance  himself;  and  if  he  pays  any  attention 
to  the  action  of  his  arms,  their  adaptation  of  position  to 
the  necessities  of  the  case  is  thereby  disturbed  :  he  be- 
comes giddy,  and  falls. 

Hence,  too,  the  respiratory  movement  goes  on  of  it- 
self, and  regulates  itself;  becomes  rapid  while  the  body 
runs  or  strives,  decreases  when  the  body  rests,  continues 
while  it  sleeps — all  independently  of  sensation ;  and, 
indeed,  it  is  good  that  these  movements  do  not  depend 
upon  consciousness  and  attention  in  us  any  more  than  in 
plants  ;  for  they  did  require  our  undivided  and  con- 
stant watchfulness ;  we  would  not  have  time  for  any 
thing  else,  not  even  for  sleep,  and  a  moment  of  forgetful- 
ness,  determent,  or  sleep,  would  be  fatal  to  life  itself. 

Hence,  too,  the  mastication  and  swallowing  of  food, 
though  we  may  be  conscious  of  it,  is  best  accomplished 
without  the  interference  of  our  will,  or  even  of  our  at- 
tention. Where  is  the  person  who  can  assert  that 
during  his  meals  he  watches  and  manages  these  move- 
ments intendingly?  If  any  one  does  this,  we  simply 
suggest  that  he  must  be  a  very  dull  table  companion 
to  his  family  and  friends,  and  that  if  he  were  to  let  au- 
tomatic instinct  chew  for  him,  the  work  would  be  bet- 
ter done,  and  he  would  have  more  time  to  listen,  think, 
and  converse. 

Now,  reverting  back  to  the  millions  of  animals  of 
the  classes  below  the  Yertebrata — to  the  Crustacese,  In- 


VITALITY.  65 

^ecta,  Arclmgeidae,  Annulata,  Mollusca,  Radiata,  En- 
tozoa,  Acalepha,  Polypi,  and  Infusoria,  which  have  no 
cerebrum,  we  may  safely  conclude  that  they  (with  cer- 
tain fishes  and  other  vertebrata  which  resemble  them 
in  this  respect)  have  no  poiver  or  gift  of  consciousness. 

There  is  no  escaping  this  conclusion,  for  it  is  as  cer- 
tain as  death  that  the  cerebrum,  and  the  cerebrum 
alone,  is  the  seat  or  organ  of  consciousness. 

And  nevertheless  let  it  be  noted  that,  by  the  aid  of 
unconscious  sensation,  they  go  and  come,  seek  their 
food,  avoid  their  enemies,  and  make  their  dwellings. 

They  are  automatons,  and  their  senses  are  the  levers 
of  mechanical  movements  performed  by  the  body. 

Thus  we  see  that,  from  the  beginning  of  all  organi- 
zation to  its  end,  (through  all  the  consecutive  and 
branching  series  of  vegetal  and  animal  forms,)  vege- 
tative phenomena  exhibit  themselves  with  wonderful 
uniformity  of  action,  and  without  essential  change  in  the 
living  tissues ;  so  that,  in  vital  properties,  the  animal  is 
like  unto  the  plant. 

To  the  animal,  the  nervous  systems  are  added  one 
after  the  other,  and  become  more  and  more  intricate 
only  to  serve  the  progressive  complexity  in  the  evolu- 
tions of  Vitality. 

But  Yitality  ever  retains  its  distinctive  character- 
istics, answering  in  the  plant  and  in  the  animal — ^in  all 
organic  nature,  to  this  definition :  Yitality  is  vegetative 
activity. 

5 


66  HUMANICS. 

Hence  Animality  is  vegetative  activity,  with  its 
process  of  nutrition  reversed,  and  a  nervous  system  in- 
serted. 

The  distinction  between  the  two  is  therefore  not  in 
the  phenomena  of  movement,  locomotion,  contractility, 
nutrition,  respiration,  reproduction,  and  other  forms  of 
motion  ;  but  it  is  in  a  change  of  the  poles  of  adaptation 
to  the  external  elements. 

What  else  than  this  parallelism  and  agreement,  or 
rather  this  unity  in  diversity,  could  w^e  expect,  when 
we  know : 

Tliat  plants  and  animals  both  spring  from  a  germ, 
known  in  physiology  as  the  organic  germ  cell. 

They  are  made  up,  in  toto,  of  these  cells,  and  every 
plant  or  animal  is  derived  from  one  organic  germ  cell, 
which  multiples  itself  to  form  a  complete  individual. 
The  cells  which  originate  and  make  up  the  animal 
differ  in  no  obvious  particular  from  those  which  germi- 
nate, increase,  and  propagate  the  plant.  The  great 
Oak,  or  the  tiny  "  Eed-Snow,"  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  locomotive  Man,  or  parasite  Spongia  on  the  other, 
are  respectively  derived  from  simple  germs,  identical  in 
typical  construction  and  properties. 

In  the  course  of  organization  these  cells  undergo  a 
sort  (A jpartial  transformation,  whereby  one  set  forms 
bone,  another  set  forms  muscle,  and  other  sets  form 
nerves,  skin,  hair,  &c. ;  but  so  far  as  motion  is  con- 
cerned, all  the  vital  functions  and  the  movements  of 


VITALITY.  67 

the  body  are  mostly  accomplislied  by  tissues  composed 
of  cells  which  have  undergone  the  least  alteration  from 
the  primary  type. 

The  microcosm  of  life  is  the  organic  germ  cell. 

CONCLUSIONS. 

I  am  perhaps  too  hasty  in  presenting  any  conclu- 
sion at  this  stage  of  our  argument ;  yet  I  think  it  al- 
ready sufficiently  apparent : 

That,  in  Zoonomy, 

—  the  share  of  Yegetality  is  Life  and  Motion. 

—  the  share  of  Animality  is  Sensation  and  Con- 
sciousness. 

That  the  propelling  forces  of  an  organism  come  di- 
rectly from  the  exterior,  and  impart  their  energy  by 
immediate  contact,  or  through  the  nerves  of  special 
sense,  or  they  come  indirectly  from  the  exterior,  and  im- 
part their  energy  by  immediate  contact  with  the  viscera, 
or  through  the  sympathetic  nerves,  to  sensibility,  &c. 

That  motion  is  not  evidence  of  sensation  or  of  con- 
sciousness in  an  organism. 

That  motion  is  the  property  of  the  fibrous  or  con- 
tractile tissues  of  an  organism. 

That  locomotion  is  an  evolution  of  vitality — sensa- 
tion being  only  its  Sentinel  and  Beacon. 

That  motion  is  not  a  property  of  the  nervous  system, 
which  is  only  the  vehicle,  but  not  the  doer  of  motion.  - 


68  HUMANICS. 

That  motion  is  adapted  to  the  ends  of  life,  even 
without  sensation  or  consciousness. 

That  motion  in  Vitality  is  the  harmonization  of 
chemical  elements  and  physical  forces,  with  organic 
arrangement. 

That  Life,  Vitality,  or  Vegetality,  is  the  enlarging 
vortex^  or  concentric  motion  and  distribution,  of  chemi- 
cal elements  and  j^hysical  forces  upon  a  predetermined 
and  re-engendering  type. 

Inertion  instead  of  Motion  is  Death  /  and  diminu- 
tion instead  of  enlargement,  eccentric  instead  of  con- 
centric motion,  dispersion  instead  of  distribution,  are 
the  ways  of  Death. 

And  I  add : 

That  since  the  organic  types  in  so  many  classes,  or- 
ders, species,  and  varieties  are  specific,  perpetual,  and 
predetermined — those  types  must  be  due  to  the  Grand 
Archeus  of  the  Universe. 

That  since  the  plants  and  animals  themselves  do  not 
design  or  think  their  vitative  movements,  that  there  is 
a  Universal  Mind  that  designs  and  thinks  for  them. 

And  here  arises  the  question  yet  unanswered, 
whether,  when  movements  of  an  organism  are  induced 
through  consciousness^  they  are  automatic  or  optional, 
necessary  or  free. 

It  is  my  hope  that,  in  the  next  discourse,  this  prob- 
lem will  be  s(^ved :  at  this  stage  the  answer  would  be 
premature,  and  is  designedly  omitted. 


II. 

SENSATION. 

In  philosophy,  I  hold  that  all  questions  are  ques- 
tions of  fact,  all  theories  are  assertions  of  fact,  and  all 
science  is  knowledge  of  fact.  The  whole  subject-mat- 
ter, premises,  eviclences,  and  conchisions  of  science, 
whether  physical,  mental,  or  moral,  consists  of  a. series 
of  facts  made  evident  directly  by,  or  through  the  sen- 
sational or  the  innate  mind,  or  indirectly  through  de- 
duction or  induction.  So  true  is  this,  that  upon  ana- 
lyzing any  course  of  reasoning,  we  will  find  that  every 
alleged  demonstration  is  a  good  or  bad  adaptation  of 
facts  to  one  another ;  and  that  an  argument  may  be 
defined  as  the  exhibition  of  a  fact  in  such  terms  as  to 
make  it  apparent  that  it  agrees  or  disagrees  with,  be- 
longs to,  or  is  included  in  another. 

Take  tlie  metaphysical  abstractions  of  Hegel  and 
his  predecessors,  the  procrustean  skepticism  of  Compte 
and  his  predecessors,  or  the  blind  mysticism  of  Jacobi 
and  his  predecessors,  and  you  will  see  (upon  close  ex- 
amination) that  they  profess  to  deal  only  yiiih.  facts, 


70  HUMANICS. 

to  stand  only  upon  facts,  and  to  arrive  only  at  a  knowl- 
edge of  facts.  When  one  school  contends  that  science 
is  wholly  mental,  and  that  there  is  no  objective  reality, 
it  makes  an  assertion  of  fact ;  w^hen  another  school 
insists  that  all  things  are  material,  and  that  there  is  no 
spiritual  reality,  it  makes  an  assertion  of  fact;  and 
when  a  third  school  teaches  that  nothing  can  be  proved, 
and  that  the  creation  of  truth  is  instinctive  faith  alone, 
it  makes  an  assertion  of  fact.  All  the  details  of  these 
systems,  and  of  those  which  occupy  the  ground  between 
them,  are  assumptions  or  evidences  of  particular  facts 
considered  as  concluding  towards  the  main  fact  ad- 
vanced. I  fear  that  mere  assertions  predominate ;  and 
it  would  be  well  if  the  idea  of  scrence  as  containing 
nought  but  ascertained  facts  were  applied  to  the  study 
of  philosophy,  and  particularly  to  the  rationale  of 
Humanics.  Suppose  that  every  proposition  stated  by 
philosophical  writers  were  noted  with  the  interrogation, 
is  this  a  fact  f  How  many  of  them  upon  examination 
of  the  proof  would  remain  ?  Might  we  not  then  (en- 
deavoring to  achieve  a  practical  result)  make  an  inven- 
tory of  the  general  truths,  the  universal  facts,  upon 
which  they  all  agree  or  have  left  no  doubt?  and  also 
might  we  not  subjoin  an  inventory  of  the  most  impor- 
tant propositions  upon  which  they  disagree,  or  which 
they  have  left  without  clear  demonstration  ?  This  in- 
ventory would  be  of  supreme  utility ;  for,  by  it  we 
would  know  what  were  the  real  conquests  of  philoso- 
phy, and  what  work  it  has  to  do  hereafter. 


SENSATION.  71 

But  let  not  the  sense  I  attack  to  the  word  "  fact," 
be  misapprehended.  We  are  told  by  logicians,  that 
facts  are  the  truths  resulting  from  something  done^  and 
they  distinguish  facts  from  events^  from  the  realities  of 
things^  from  ideas^  &c.  Thus  they  say,  the  action  which 
took  place  at  the  death  of  Caesar  was  an  event^  while 
the  death  of  Caesar,  as  having  actually  taken  place,  is 
2^  fact.  Thus  also  they  say,  a  dot,  a  line,  a  man,  a  beast, 
&c.,  are  not  facts ;  e.  g.  we  cannot  say  that  Caesar  was 
a  fact.  Nor  is  "an  idea"  a  fact;  for  we  cannot  call 
our  thoughts  facts.  'Tis  well ;  let  us  take  all  this  play 
upon  words  as  valid  discrimination,  and  what  does  it 
amount  to  ?  Nothing  ;  for,  w^e  do  not  reason  things  or 
conclude  things,  but  of  things,  events,  ideas.  All  our 
reasoning  involves  the  affirmation  or  negation  of  some 
circumstance,  property,  or  law  of  matter,  mind,  action, 
&c.  To  do  this  w^e  must  use  verbs  ;  and  all  things  are 
nought  to  intelligence  till  some  assertion  is  made  of 
them.  Thus  we  may  define  fact  to  be  a  true  assertion ; 
and  say  that  all  true  assertions  are  facts.  The  event  is 
happening  or  has  happened — God  exists — nature  is  real 
— the  spirit  liveth — a  point  is  a  place  in  space — the 
idea  is  well  conceived — are  all  statements  of  fact.  In 
other  words,  the  moment  we  put  a  verb  and  a  noun 
together  we  declare  a  fact ;  and  then,  not  till  then,  can 
any  predicate  be  formed — then,  and  not  till  then,  can 
any  reasoning  take  place — then,  and  not  till  then,  can 
any  science  exist.  This  is  so  plainly  true,  that  no 
argument  is  needed  to  establish  it,  and   it  suffices  to 


72  HUMANICS. 

appeal  to  the  consciousness  of  every  one  in  order  to 
demand  immediate  adhesion  to  our  averment. 

We  cannot  say  we  have  a  knowledge  of  any  thing, 
whether  it  be  matter  or  motion,  idea  or  substance,  body 
or  spirit,  till  we  assert  something  in  relation  to  it — so 
that,  after  all,  the  whole  of  philosoj^hy  is  in  facts,  and 
depends  upon  their  correct  ascertainment — the  whole 
content  of  thought  is  fact,  and  all  correct  reasoning 
depends  upon  the  freedom  of  that  content  from  what 
may  be  called  false  facts. 

Therefore,  when  we  read  any  philosophical  author, 
we  should  through  all  his  verbal  distinctions,  his  inven- 
tion of  arbitrary  nonentities,  his  artifices  of  language, 
his  phantoms  of  imagination,  &c.,  look  constantly  to 
the  question  :  What  are  the  facts  ?  Are  they  faithfully 
described  with  no  more  and  no  less  than  what  they 
really  contain  ?  are  they  properly  classed  ?  are  they 
proved  or  demonstrated  ?  &c.  These  and  similar  ques- 
tions, are  the  te^ts  of  all  philosophy ;  and  with  such 
tests  no  man  need  be  mystified  either  by  the  meta- 
physics of  nihilism,  tlie  cosmogony  of  atheism,  or  the 
premature  hypothesis  of  spiritualism. 

But,  to  say  that  the  contents  of  human  knowledge 
consist  of  J^acts,  is  not  a  sufficient  solution  of  the  ques- 
tion we  started  to  solve :  for  we  have  alreadv  found 
ourselves  obliged  to  allude  to  facts  assumed  but  ulti- 
mately disproved,  as  distinguishable  from  facts  positive 
and  trice  ;  so  that  we  have  not  yet  found  the  stand-place 


SENSATION.  73 

of  reliance,  the  initial  point  of  reason,  which  is  to  serve 
as  our  test  between  truth  and  error. 

Philosophers  have  debated  much  to  decide  whether 
our  knowledge  of  things  perceived,  be  mediate  or  im- 
mediate •  and  they  have  made  important  consequences, 
one  way  or  the  other,  depend  upon  the  solution  of  the 
question. 

Both  parties  admit  the  intei*position  or  agency  of 
the  instruments  of  sensation,  in  the  act  of  perception. 

One  party  contends  that  this  agency  of  the  senses 
does  not  preclude  us  from  considering  that  our  knowl- 
edge of  objects  perceived  is  direct,  immediate,  or  pre- 
sentative.  The  other  holds  that  the  interposition  of 
sense  makes  the  knowledge  indirect,  mediate,  or  repre- 
sentative. 

From  this  distinction  they  start  the  question, 
whether  the  things  perceived  are  real  or  not ;  and 
whether  we  have  evidence  of  the  veracity  of  the  senses. 
Hence  the  contest  between  idealism  and  realism.  If 
the  veracity  of  the  senses  can  be  reasonably  denied, 
what  proof,  it  is  asked,  have  we  of  the  reality  of  any 
thing — or  even  of  our  own  existence  ? 

It  does  not  clearly  appear  how  the  distinction  be- 
tween representative  and  presentative  knowledge  doth 
materially  help  either  side  in  deciding  upon  the  reality 
or  unreality  of  perception  ;  for  if  we  cavil  with  our 
senses,  we  may  plead  the  general  issue  in  one  suit  as 
well  as  the  other,  and  we  may  impeach  the  witnesses, 


74  HUMANICS. 

whether  they  make  out  the  case  directly  or  circumstan- 
tially. 

Suppose  that  sense  apprehends  the  "  things  out  of 
itself  and  in  their  proper  space  ; "  how  does  it  follow, 
from  this  alone,  that  the  perception  is  not  entirely  false  ? 
Does  not  the  lunatic  who  sees  a  phantom  before  him, 
see  it  out  of  himself,  and  as  in  its  proper  space  ?  Sup- 
pose, conversely,  that  what  appears  as  a  thing  external 
to  myself,  be  merely  an  image  within  my  mind,  can  I 
assume,  from  the  fact  of  its  being  an  image  or  even  an 
innate  idea,  that  it  is  false  ? 

1^0,  neither  argument  will  ever  produce  a  convic- 
tion. ]^o,  the  certitude  of  objective  reality,  is  indiffer- 
ent to  these  distinctions,  and  is  supported  by  other 
evidence  besides  that  which  is  brought  to  sustain  the 
theory  of  immediate  cognition. 

As  long  as  the  agency  of  the  instruments  of  sense, 
of  the  touch,  of  the  nerves,  of  the  brain,  &c.,  must 
stand  as  an  undeniable  fact  in  the  debate,  the  question 
between  the  presentationists  and  representationists,  so 
far  as  the  verbal  distinction  is  concerned,  must  remain 
undecided. 

Does  my  eye  throw  out  filaments  of  light  and  jpush 
them  into  contact  with  outer  objects,  or  does  it  simply 
receive  images  ? 

If  it  receive  images,  how  is  it  that  these  images  can- 
not be  realized  as  existing  within  us  ?  How  can  we  sliake 
off  the  consciousness,  that  it  is  not  an  image  but  the 
thing  itself  we  behold  ?     Yet  how  can  we  dispute  the 


SENSATION.  75 

facts  demonstrated  by  Anatomy  and  Optics,  which  show 
that  the  eye  is  constructed  like  a  camera  obscura  whicli 
receives  images  ? 

If  it  does  not  receive  images,  how  can  any  real 
difference  between  the  hallucination  of  a  sj)irit  seer 
and  the  normal  vision  of  everybody  be  accounted  for  ? 
How  could  dreams  bo  distinguished  from  ordinary  per- 
ceptions ?  How  could  we  recall  scenes  and  events  of  our 
past  experience  ?  Yet  it  is  perfectly  certain  that  the  evi- 
dence of  Anatomy  and  Optics  stoj^s  short  at  the  retina, 
for  beyond  this  no  image  was  ever  found,  and  nothing  in 
the  analysis  of  vision  can  account  for  the  further  trans- 
mission of  the  image,  while  nothing  in  the  dissection 
of  the  brain  enables  us  to  follow  the  picture  to  any 
point  within  the  nervous  or  cerebral  organism. 

The  real  question  between  the  presentationists  and 
representationists,  is  whether  the  data  given  us  in  con- 
sciousness, be  true  or  false. 

Hamilton,  whose  accurate  and  universal  knowledge 
of  the  wu-itings  of  philosophers,  is  perfectly  reliable, 
says :  "  No  philosoj^her  has  ever  formally  denied  the 
truth  or  disclaimed  the  authority  of  consciousness ;  but 
few  or  none  have  been  content  implicitly  to  accept,  and 
consistently  follow  out  its  dictates." 

Barring  any  "  inconsistency  "  they  may  have  been 
guilty  of,  the  philosophers  are  perfectly  right — right  in 
not  denying  the  truth  or  authority  of  consciousness — 
right  in  not  implicitly  accepting  its  dictates. 


76  HUMANICS. 

This  is  only  an  ajyj^arent  paradox,  or  contradiction. 

Why? 

Because  it  is  too  true  that  our  senses,  perceptions 
or  consciousness,  let  the  name  be  either,  often  deceive 
us,  and  we  are  all  on  our  guard  against  the  data  fur- 
nished ;  yet  it  is  also  true  that  it  is  by  the  evidence  of 
sense,  perception  or  consciousness,  that  it  is  itself  cor- 
rected— it  is  by  its  own  data  that  it  corrects  itself. 

Practically,  consciousness  is  a  witness  who  is  con- 
stantly contradicting  himself,  and  yet  is  the  sole  witness 
on  whose  testimony  we  must  act.  We  cannot  simply 
dismiss  the  case,  but  are  compelled,  at  our  peril,  to 
give  judgment  positively  one  way  or  the  other. 

So  that  we  must  admit  the  authority  of  the  witness, 
though  he  prevaricates,  and  differs  with  himself,  and 
our  endless  task  is  to  find  out  wherein  he  belies  or  mis- 
apprehends himself ;  or  rather  what  he  really  says  or 
means. 

The  true  view  of  the  matter  is  to  consider  all  the 
data  furnished  by  consciousness  as  fadsj  but  not  to 
take  any  of  these  facts  as  presenting  the  whole  truth. 
If,  for  instance,  I  sec  a  ghost  standing  before  me,  follow- 
ing me  everywhere,  as  Brutus  when  he  saw  the  shade 
of  Caesar  ;  must  I  take  this  as  a  fact  f  Undoubtedly 
I  must ;  but  I  should  ascertain  whether  the  apparition 
is  presented  to  or  from  the  mind.  Behold,  I  see  the 
sun,  at  dawn  in  the  east,  at  noon  at  the  zenith,  at  eve 
in  the  west.     Must  I  take  this  as  a  fact  ?     Undoubtedly 


SENSATION.  77 

I  must ;  but  I  should  ascertain  whicli  of  the  two  doth 
move,  the  sun  or  myself ;  and  if  I  decide  erroneously, 
I  might  be  tempted  to  persecute  a  Galileo  as  a  lunatic, 
a  heretic,  a  wretch  who  denies  both  the  evidence  of  his 
senses  and  the  Word  of  God. 

Thus,  the  authority  of  consciousness  standing  on  its 
true  merit,  should  be  fully  admitted,  not  as  requiring 
implicit  reliance  upon  any  single  data  it  furnishes  ;  but 
as  requiring  reliance  upon  all  the  data  taken  together, 
accompanied  by  a  warning,  that  the  omission  of  any 
part  of  the  existing  data,  whether  known  or  not  known, 
will  leave  \\?> practically  with  a  deluded  consciousness. 

The  problem  presents  itself  like  a  case  to  be  tried 
before  a  judge  and  jury  upon  a  mixed  issue  of  law  and 
fact.  ]^o  single  item  of  the  evidence  may  be  sufficient  to 
determine  the  issue  of  fact,  no  single  principle  of  lawmay 
be  adequate  to  solve  the  legal  difficulties,  but  the  w^hole 
evidence  and  jurisprudence  summed  up,  may  present  a 
clear  result  of  premises  established,  circumstances  re- 
conciled, falsehood  detected,  and  logical  conclusions 
perfectly  apparent. 

We  cannot  ignore  the  fact  that  both  perception  and 
judgment  are  imperfect  and  irregular  in  their  powers 
and  action ;  and  are  constantly  correcting  their  own 
selves  and  each  other — so  that  tlieir  contents  and  de- 
cisions are  constantly  called  in  question,  and  undergoing 
revision  and  change.  Where  and  what,  then,  is  reality  f 
I  answer  it  is  the  what-is-felt  at  present.     Any  other 


78  HUMANICS. 

definition  is  a  lie  ;  for  reality  is  not  speculative  but 
practical ;  and  every  man  acts  upon  bis  present  feeling 
and  conviction  as  reality,  and  no  man  knows  any  otber 
reality ;  thougb  every  man  also  knows  tliat  bis  feelings 
and  convictions  are  constantly  undergoing  transmuta- 
tion and  transformation. 

Yet  tbis  is  not  so  desperate  and  alarming  as  at  first 
it  would  seem. 

Tliis  mutability  bas  a  basis ;  and  is,  in  fact,  tbe 
movement  of  revision  and  correction  carried  on  by  our 
faculties.  It  is  tbe  marcb  of  intellectual  bumanity 
going  on  in  eacb  man's  mind,  rallied  and  encouraged 
by  tbe  following  aids  : 

l*^.  Artificial  belps  to  natural  powers,  tbrougb  in- 
struments, cbemical  analysis,  &c. ; 

2^  Admonitions  of  sense  to  sense,  wdiereby  our 
senses  cbeck  and  rectify  tbe  impressions  of  eacb 
otber ; 

S^.  Repetition,  or  tbe  reiterated  observations  of  tbe 
same  fact  in  different  ways  or  at  difi'erent  times  ; 

4:''.  Human  testimony,  or  concurrent  and  precedent 
investigations  b}^  otlier  men,  communicated  tbrougb 
language,  signs,  &c. ; 

5°.  Tbe  laws  by  wbicb  tbougbt  or  consciousness  it- 
self is  governed,  and  wbicb  act  as  a  rule  and  compass 
to  all  our  judgments. 

If  we  look  back  upon  our  own  experience  and  bear 
tbe  tc^stimony  of  all  men  past  and  present,  we  find  tbat 


SENSATION.  79 

there  is  a  multitude  of  always-present  realities,  of  which 
the  human  kind  has  never  been  divested,  and  in  which 
it  daily  gains  increasing  confidence.  Eealities  of  ex- 
istence, of  self  and  not-self,  of  social  intercourse,  moral 
sentiment,  bodily  feeling,  scientific  order,  natural  law, 
mode  of  thought,  &c.  These  being  repeated  over  and 
over  again  in  all  time  past,  as  well  as  in  the  present, 
and  being  asserted  by  all  men,  assume  a  character  of 
•  certitude  so  great  that  we  exnecessitate,  feel  we  have  a 
real  foothold,  and  cannot  give  adhesion  to  the  doctrines 
of  idealism  or  nihilism. 

Besides,  as  we  have  said,  reality  is  not  speculative 
but  practical ;  and  we  find  that  in  practising  and  act- 
ing upon  these  reiterated  and  re-verified  realities,  which 
vividly  shine  in  consciousness,  no  mishap  befalls  us ; 
and  thus  as  we  go,  we  acquire  new  confidence  in  the 
harmony  of  nature,  and  in  the  truth  of  her  revelations. 

What  do  we  mean  when  we  say  that  a  thing,  a 
quality,  <fec.,  is  "  real "  ?  We  simply  declare  that  our 
percej^tive  powers  have  been  impressed  or  moved  in 
one  way  or  the  other.  Whether  this  impression  or 
movement  is  felt  as  arising  within  us  or  out  of  us,  the 
first  idea  of  it  is,  that  it  is  felt.  It  must  be  felt  or  not 
felt :  if  not  felt,  no  notion  or  idea  of  it  could  exist  in 
our  minds,  and  thus  its  negation  would  be  determined  ; 
but,  if  felt,  it  is^  and  it  must  be  aflirmed — at  least  so 
far  as  the  fact  of  being  felt  is  considered.  Whatever 
opinion,  notion,  conception,  judgment  we  may  form  of 


80  HUMANICS. 

the  impression  or  movement,  wliether  as  trustwortlij 
or  deceptivCj  the  idea  of  reality  attaches  itself  to  what 
is  felt,  as  well  as  to  the  judgment  conceived  in  relation 
to  it.  Indeed,  the  judgment  itself  is  an  impression  or 
movement  fdt^  by  and  in  the  mind  or  soul.  Beyond 
what  consciousness  declares  or  testifies,  there  is  for  us 
nothing,  zero,  nought,  negation ;  and  therefore  the 
opposite  of  negation,  reality,  must  be  on  what  this  feel- 
ing doth  testify  and  declare. 

It  is  in  consciousness  that  we  feel  the  high  operations 
of  reflection  and  thought,  which  dej^end  upon  our  im- 
mortal archeus;  for,  our  rational  soul  works  upon  the 
data  consciousness  has  obtained  through  sensation. 

Every  movement  to^  in,  or  from  the  mind,  reveals 
itself  to  the  mind  itself,  and  it  is  this  revelation  which 
is  taken  as  kealitt,  in  presenti.  Yet  there  is  a  degree 
in  the  admission.  A  new  phenomenon  or  idea  is  re- 
ceived wdth  caution.  Other  beliefs  in  the  mind  may 
contest  the  genuineness  of  the  new  data ;  and  a  period 
of  transition  and  investigation  occurs.  The  new  comer 
may  be  even  rejected,  in  toto,  as  a  deceit ;  but  this  re- 
jection is  always  based  upon  the  evidence  given  by  the 
then  present  condition  of  the  mind  as  to  what  is  felt 
and  real.  Most  frequently  old  and  tried  acquaintances 
present  themselves ;  and  are  acknowledged  in  the  pro- 
portion of  their  age  and  frequency.  When  their 
visits  recur  in  a  known  and  familiar  garb,  they  are 
instantly  accepted  without  distrust. 


SENSATION.  81 

We  thus  find,  that  reality  is  in  the  testimony  of 
consciousness — that  outside  of  the  what-is-felt  there  is  no 
fact — and  that  truth  is  therein  or  nowhere ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  is  also  certain  we  must  and  do  regard 
our  sensations,  perc-eptions,  &c.,  with  doubt,  suspicion, 
&c.  So  we  necessarily  oscillate  between  the  admission 
and  denial  of  reality.  Indeed,  we  simultaneously  trust 
and  distrust  therein,  and  this  double  feeling  or  convic- 
tion is  founded  on  the  very  consciousness  which  relies 
upon  itself  to  impeach  itself.  While  we  judge  of  it 
we  judge  hy  it.  It  unites  the  characters  of  justiciary, 
witness,  and  party,  all  three  of  whom  are  affected  by 
every  sentence  pronounced.  If  the  tribunal  condemns 
the  witness,  as  such, — it  condemns  and  discards  itself. 
This  it  cannot  do;  for  it  sicbsists  in  spite  of  itself. 
Thus  it  may  rectify,  not  annihilate  itself;  and  it  lives 
to  act  according  to  its  gifts,  and  to  accej^t  at  every 
given  point  of  time  its  own  self,  its  own  evidence,  and 
its  own  judgment  as  valid — as  exhibiting  reality. 

Let  it  not  be  assumed  that,  in  what  we  have  said, 
we  have  been  confounding  perception,  consciousness, 
and  judgment.  They  are  really  inseparable,  though 
distinguishable.  They  are  all  revealed  to  feeling,  in 
feeling,  and  hy  feeling.  They  constitute  together  the 
what-is-felt ;  and  it  is  vain  to  attribute  falsehood  to  one 
rather  than  to  the  other.  Judgment  rectifies  percep- 
tion, and  perception  rectifies  judgment.  What  is  it 
that  compares,  classifies,  generalizes  perceptions,  and 
6 


82  HUMANICS. 

finally  finds  their  harmony  ?  Judgment.  What  is  it 
that  prevents  judgment  from  making  gratuitous  as- 
sumptions and  accrediting  random  theories  ?  Percep- 
tion. Where  do  we  seek  for  the  content  of  either  or 
both?  In  consciousness,  where  they  are  one.  Out  of 
this  circle  we  cannot  go,  nor  can  we  confine  ourselves 
at  any  time  to  any  one  point  of  the  circle ;  for  it  is  the 
circle  of  the  what-is-felt,  made  up  of  all  the  elements 
of  certainty  and  uncertainty,  and  of  interfused  judge, 
witness,  and  party. 

How  vain,  then,  is  the  dispute  between  the  idealists 
and  sensationalists — one  party  arguing  that  all  knowl- 
edge is  received,  and  the  other  that  it  is  all  produced, 
by  the  mind.  All  they  know  and  all  they  can  know  is 
the  what-is-felt,  as  it  is  felt  /  and  as  it  exhibits  itself 
hy^  to^  and  in  consciousness,  whether  as  sensation,  per- 
ception, memory,  reflection,  judgment,  or  as  any  other 
content  of  self  or  phenomenon  of  not-self.  The  truth 
or  falsehood  of  these,  may  be  argued  upon  the  premises 
of  either  doctrine.  Either  theory  may  furnish  reasons 
to  afhrm  or  deny  reality,  as  the  realists  and  nihilists, 
in  tlieir  respective  w'orks,  have  abundantly  shown 
against  one  another.  For  myself  I  am  content  to  take 
the  what-is-felt  as  it  is,  with  its  combined  certainty  and 
uncertainty  ;  for  that  is  all  God  has  given  me,  to  deal 
with  at  my  own  peril. 

Header,  permit  me,  before  proceeding  further,  and 
merely  by  way  of  incidental  and  unessential  remark, 


SENSATION.  83 

to  suggest  a  tlionglit.  Its  admission  or  rejection  is  not 
material  to  any  proposition  I  desire  to  insist  upon  ;  yet 
it  seems  to  me  worthy  of  passing  notation. 

I  have  admitted  that  perception  is  snbject  to  error ; 
but  to  error  which  it  is.  itself,  constantly  correcting. 
This,  in  a  certain  school  of  philosophy,  would  be  re- 
garded as  contradiction  and  heresy ;  for  it  qualifies  or 
modifies  their  dogma  of  the  absolute  certitude  and  con- 
sistency of  the  contents  of  consciousness ;  and  leaves 
us,  they  say,  to  doubt  man's  past,  present,  and  future 
ability  to  attain  a  correct  consciousness  of  the  keal. 

T  might  simply  reply  by  an  appeal  to  the  facts 
which  attest  the  imperfection  of  all  things,  and  there 
stop  ;  yet,  I  suggest,  that  if  man  were  perfect  in  any 
one  quality  of  intelligence,  he  would  be  necessarily 
perfect  in  them  all ;  and  that  as  intellectual  perfection 
implies  infallibility^  so  man,  if  mentally  perfect,  would 
be  infallible.  But  to  assert  this  would  be  sheer  blas- 
phemy and  absurd  presumption  ;  for  the  pretension 
would  amount  to  a  vain  and  proud  claim  to  the  pleni- 
tude of  God's  attribute. 

Am  I  right  in  saying  that  perfection  in  one  mental 
quality  would  be  perfection  in  all  ?  Yes  ;  for  there  is 
no  definite  line  of  demarkation  between  the  several 
properties  of  mind — they  are  woven  into  each  other 
and  depend  upon  eacli  other — so  that  if  any  one  has 
not  the  assistance  of  the  rest  it  could  not  do  its  full 
duty.  Thus  as  a  faculty  in  its  action  needs  help,  it  is 
clear  that  if  the  help  is  imperfect  the  work  must  also 


84  HUMANICS. 

be  imperfect.  Thus  the  infallibility  of  any  part  of 
consciousness  requires  the  infallibility  of  the  whole,  to 
which  it  belongs  and  in  which  it  rests.  Taking  one 
from  hundreds  of  analogies  which  might  be  adduced 
from  the  material  world,  and  pointing  to  a  quadruped 
having  three  defective  legs,  I  ask.  Would  not  this  im- 
perfection impair  the  powers  of  the  fourth,  however 
faultless  it  might  be  in  itself? 

If  we  were  forced  to  the  alternative  of  asserting 
either  the  absolute  truth  or  absolute  falsehood  of  C07i- 
sciousness — if  there  be  no  middle  term  between  the 
perfection  of  our  sentient  powers  and  their  non-entity, 
then  we  are  placed  in  a  dilemma  between  two  falla- 
cies :  I''.  We  w^ould  have  on  one  side  the  sophism  of 
the  unconditional  realists,  who  rely  upon  the  data  fur- 
nished by  consciousness  itself  to  prove  its  own  veracity, 
which  is  heggiiig  the  question  /  for  the  very  thing  de- 
nied cannot  be  taken  as  the  basis  of  an  argument  con- 
cluding to  its  own  truth.  How  can  a  witness  be  heard 
to  prove  his  own  credibility  ?  2°.  On  the  other  hand, 
we  would  have  the  fallacy  of  the  nihilists,  who  argue 
upon  the  data  given  by  consciousness  itself,  in  order  to 
conclude  against  its  very  existence,  which  hfelo  de  se  j 
for  if  consciousness  has  no  reality  it  cannot  be  the  basis 
of  any  conclusion  whatever.  Thus  we  are  forced  into 
a  middle  position,  which  is  simpl}^  this  : 

1°.  That  which  consciousness  declares  is  the  begin- 
ning and  basis  of  all  knowledge — the  centre  from  which 


SENSATION.  85 

all  we  know  radiates,  so  that  every  attempt  to  prove  or 
disprove  it  fails  for  want  of  a  legitimate  major  premiss ; 
for  if  this  basis,  beginning,  or  centre  of  all  reasoning, 
could  be  proved  or  disproved,  there  would  be  a  major 
premiss  or  fact  still  more  primary  and  universal,  so 
that  consciousness  would  not  be  the  beginning  or  cen- 
tre. But  as  we  know  of  no  other  ground  more  univer- 
sal, further  removed,  or  nearer  the  core,  all  our 
arguments  must  admit  the  deliverances  of  consciousness 
a^  fact  though  unproved  and  unprovable.  These  de- 
liverances are  like  the  testimony  of  a  single  eye-witness 
to  the  allegations  of  an  indictment  or  declaration.  It 
would  certainly  be  absurd  to  ask  Mm  to  prove  what  he 
says ;  for  that  would  be  requiring  two  witnesses  when 
there  is  really  but  one  in  existence. 

2^.  But  while  we  Qmist  take  consciousness  as  fact 
simply  because  it  is  the  fact  of  facts,  and  contains  all 
in  all, — because  there  is  no  other  and  it  is  our  very  self ; 
this  implies  that  we  must  take  it  as  it  is  /  for  we 
cannot  take  it  otherwise, — yet,  for  the  same  reason,  we 
must  admit  it  and  all  its  imperfections,  self-impeach- 
ments, and  self- corrections :  admit  its  declaration  of 
an  objective  not-self — admit  this  not-self  as  known  only 
in  the  self — admit  that  self  and  not-self  are  frequently 
confounded — admit  that  what  consciousness  positively 
avers  to  day  as  true,  it  holds  to-morrow  as  false ;  and 
still  is  just  as  positive  as  ever. 

The  way  to  discover  the  truth  in  a  case  like  this,  is 
to  cross-examine  the  only  witness  ;  so  that  he  may  cor- 


86  HUMANICS. 

rect  himself  if  he  was  mistaken,  and  he  will  not  hesi- 
tate to  do  so ;  for  his  honesty,  at  least,  is  certain,  since 
it  is  for  himself  and  to  himself  he  gives  his  testimony. 

Indeed,  it  is  necessary  that  there  should  be  a  start- 
ing point  of  knowledge,  or  2)rima  ratio ;  for  if  there 
were  not  one,  we  would  be  constantly  driven  from 
position  to  position  in  all  reasoning.  Thought  would 
fall  backwards  down  the  abyss  of  "  iiifinite  series,^''  or 
pursue  an  ever  distant  ignis  fatuus. 

With  all  its  imperfections  consciousness  therefore 
subsists  as  the  criterium  Veritas. 

Of  these  imperfections  it  behooves  us  not  to  com- 
plain :  God  alone  is  perfect.  For  what  he  has  given, 
let  us  be  thankful,  since  it  is  life  and  intelligence ;  and 
since  it  fulfils  the  requisites  of  the  mortal  clay,  while  it 
connects  us  with  HIS  eternal  essence. 

The  Senses  may  be  considered  as  one  ;  that  is, 
touch.  When  we  perceive  an  object  by  touch,  we  as- 
certain its  form,  its  size,  its  number,  its  arrangement, 
its  density,  its  w^eight,  its  force,  its  position,  its  texture, 
its  temperature,  its  movement,  &c.,  and  by  a  succession 
of  touches  we  mio^ht  even  measure  time.  All  of  the 
qualities  may  with  more  or  less  adequacy  be  perceived 
by  sight ;  and  sight  adds  color.  Hearing,  in  common 
with  touch  and  sight,  perceives  time  and  motion,  and 
adds  sound.  Taste  is  so  closely  allied  to  touch,  that 
absolute  contact  is  necessary  in  using  this  sense.  This 
is  also  true  with  regard  to  smell.    Indeed,  not  only 


SENSATION.  87 

taste  and  smell  must  be  touched  into  action,  but  so  also 
must  sight  and  bearing ;  for  it  is  by  the  immediate 
percussion  of  light  and  sound  tliat  the  eye  and  ear  are 
impressed.  So  that  we  may  consider  the  four  last  as 
higher  developments,  indistinct  modes  of  the  sense  of 
touch. 

When  we  perceive  an  object  the  first  impression  is 
concrete. 

Suppose,  for  instance,  an  apple  :  the  first  notion  its 
presence  affords  is  unital — it  is  the  concrete  notion  of 
an  apple.  Color,  smell,  taste,  form,  &c.,  are  not  con- 
sidered abstractedly,  but  all  inhere  so  intimately  that 
no  idea  is  conceived,  but  of  one  entire  object. 

In  mathematics  this  is  concrete  numeration. 

In  language  this  is  the  noun,  which  certainly  came 
before  the  adjective,  and  even  before  the  abstract  sub- 
stantive. 

The  unity  of  the  senses  is  implied  in  the  fact,  that 
though  we  may  conceive  the  abstract  notion  of  color, 
smell,  taste,  form,  &c.,  yet  the  hand,  the  palate,  the 
eye,  the  ear,  the  nose,  unerringly  refer  these  qualities 
to  the  same'  object  presented,  when,  in  truth,  they  are 
united  in  that  object.  The  senses  do  not  present  as 
many  severalties  as  there  are  qualities.  The  idea  of  sev- 
eralty of  objects  does  not  arise  in  consequence  of  the 
severalty  of  the  senses  ;  but  the  senses  declare  one  ob- 
ject with  several  qualities.     In  the  case  of  the  apple  : 


88  HUMANICS. 

the  color  which  the  eye  beholds,  the  taste  which  the 
palate  obtains,  the  odor  which  the  nose  scents,  the 
sound  which  the  ear  admits,  the  density  which  the 
hand  feels,  are  all  known  as  being  of  that  apple.  The 
apple  which  touch  ascertains  as  a  solid  is  known  to 
touch  as  being  the  same  apple  which  sight  beholds  as 
red,  taste  relishes  as  sweet,  smell  appreciates  as  fra- 
grant, and  sound  hears  as  husky ;  and  so  it  is  conversely 
from  one  sense  to  the  other.  Even  when  objects  are 
distant,  the  sound  suggests  form,  smell,  color,  &c. 
Evidently  there  is  a  medium  of  interchange  between 
the  senses,  or  a  common  basis  of  feeling.  There  is 
certainly  a  communion  between  the  senses,  whereby,  in 
union,  they  become  aware  of  the  identity  of  the  object 
in  which  each  of  them  finds  a  distinct  quality.  There 
must  be  an  inherent  property  common  to  all  the  senses, 
or  a  central  focus  to  which  external  impressions  con- 
verge, and  in  which  they  all  unite.  Outwardly  this 
would  be  the  touch,  which  is  common  to  the  four  other 
senses — inwardly  this  would  be  the  mental  hnage,  so 
often  acknowledged  by  psychologists.  Ko  other  than 
one  or  both  of  these  hypotheses  would  fit  the  facts. 

Here  we  should  note  a  class  of  facts  of  the  greatest 
importance  to  the  philosophy  of  sensation  and  of 
thought — it  is  that  crude  collection  which  constitutes 
the  science  or  art  of  Animal  Magnetism,  Spiritualism, 
&c.  Left  in  the  hands  of  charlatanism,  credulity,  and 
Buperstition,  the  real  facts  which  these  pseudo  sciences 


SENSATION.  89 

possess  have  been  so  intermixed  with  errors  and  false- 
hoods, with  so  many  gratuitous  assumptions  and  imag- 
inings, that  the  majority  of  serious  and  practical  minds 
have*  found  it  safe  to  reject  the  whole.  This  absolute 
rejection  will  not,  however,  bear  the  test  of  time  and 
experience ;  for  facts  are  now  and  then  presented,  so 
authentic  and  yet  so  entirely  dehors  the  routine  of 
classic  metaphysics  and  psychology,  that  to  ignore  them 
is  to  be  wilfully  blind  and  deaf.  The  philosophy  which 
omits  them  must  be  incomplete,  as  excluding  a  class  of 
positively  ascertained  phenomena.  It  is  therefore  time 
that  men  of  true  science,  strict  observation,  and  logical 
intellect  should  examine  these  facts,  and  assign  them 
their  real  value  and  place.  Their  positive  meaning  is 
to  be  found. 

Among  these  facts  the  following  is  well  attested  and 
may  be  verified :  Persons  have  been  found  who,  in 
certain  conditions,  can  read  with  bandaged  eyes,  see 
through  the  thickest  substances.  I  have  witnessed  this 
phenomenon  myself.  Here  then  is  a  case  of  seeing 
without  eyes — the  special  organ  of  vision  is  dispensed 
with.  The  same  apparently  supernatural  fact  has  been 
witnessed  in  regard  to  the  organs  of  taste,  hearing,  and 
smell.  Now,  how  can  we  explain  this  physically  ?  I 
find  but  one  answer.  It  is  that  there  is  a  central  seat 
of  homogeneous  substance  or  continuous  surface  of 
sensation,  which,  when  excited,  dispenses  with  the  me- 
dium of  the  special  organs,  and  performs  alone  their 
functions.  If  this  be  so,  here  would  be  another  proof 
of  the  common  basis  of  the  senses. 


90  HUMANICS. 

It  is  nevertheless  plain  that  the  abstract  fractions 
of  the  sentient  unit  are  gathered  severally.  Each  sense 
performs  at  least  one  distinct  function — does  what  the 
others  are  totally  incapable  of  doing.  Thus  the  sound 
the  apple  makes  as  I  bite  it,  is  cognized  by  the  ear  and 
not  by  any  other  organ ;  the  savor  I  find  as  I  masticate 
it  is  taken  by  the  palate,  and  not  by  any  other  organ  ; 
the  odor  it  exhales  is  caught  up  b}^  the  nose  and  not 
by  any  other  organ ;  the  colors  it  possesses  are  per- 
ceived b}^  the  eye  and  not  by  any  other  organ  ;  the 
hardness  of  the  substance  is  disclosed  by  the  feel  and 
not  by  any  otlier  sense.  Moreover,  the  non-existence 
of  any  one  of  these  organs  of  sense  would  exclude  the 
conception  of  the  quality  it  is  most  specially  destined 
to  distinguish.  It  would  then  be  to  us  as  if  there 
were  no  such  quality  in  existence.  If  any  one  of  the 
senses  (except  touch)  were  extinguished,  the  others 
would  remain  unaffected,  and  would  continue  their  nor- 
mal operations. 

Thus  it  appears  that  the  senses  have  each  a  separate 
individuality. 

But  I  have  already  shown  that  each  sense,  while  it 
lives,  is  so  closely  interwoven  with  the  others,  through 
the  common  bond  of  touch,  that  no  independent  action 
of  any  one  sense  ever  practically  takes  place. 

The  senses  therefore  are — many  in  one. 

"  The  senses  are  many  in  one :  "  such  is  the  result- 
ant expression  of  five  simple  operations  :  1st.  The  pri- 


SENSATION.  91 

maiy  enumeration  of  the  five  senses,  as  existing  and 
distinct  integers  ;  2d,  tlie  addition  of  the  five  in  one 
suTYh  or  term — sensation ;  3d,  the  subtraction  from 
sensation  of  four  of  the  integers  :  smell,  taste,  oyer, 
sight,  by  which  we  find  that  touch  remains ;  4th,  the 
subtraction  from  sensation  of  only  one  of  the  integers, 
touch,  by  which  we  find  that  notliiug  (zero)  remains  ; 
for  the  elimination  of  the  feel  carries  away  all  sensa- 
tion ;  5th,  the  consequent  equation  is :  touch=:sensa- 
tion. 

Thus,  insomuch  as  they  are  distinguishable  from 
each  other,  we  may  treat  the  senses  as  severalties.  Ac- 
cordingly, we  may  endeavor  to  enumerate  the  direct 
functions  of  the  senses,  apart  from  all  that  appears  to 
be  composite,  apart  from  all  complexity,  and  from 
what  is  consequent  upon  other  powers  of  the  mind. 

Touch,  w^e  find  spreads  its  net  of  nerves  to  every 
part  of  the  body ;  yet  the  same  things  or  forces  pro- 
duce difl"erent  grades  of  feeling  at  different  points  of 
the  body.  This  is  in  the  ratio  of  the  delicacy  and  fine- 
ness of  the  skin.  Alcohol  or  pepper,  for  instance,  will 
burn  with  more  intensity  when  applied  to  the  eye,  than 
when  touched  by  the  hand,  &c.  Yet  the  feel  of  any 
given  object  is  always  in  esse  the  same  :  the  difference 
is  in  degree  only.  At  the  same  time  in  the  touch  of 
different  things  we  find  a  great  variety  of  sensation, 
not  only  in  degree  but  in  quality.  Hence  we  are  able 
to  give  names  to  various  feelings  experienced  by  touch  : 
Density,  Karity,   Texture,   Contexture,   Pulverulence, 


92  HtJMANICS. 

Adhesion,  Wannth,  Coldness,  Shocking,  Soothing,  &c., 
or  hard,  soft,  firm,  fluid,  thick,  thin,  viscid,  friable, 
tough,  brittle,  rigid,  flexible,  rough,  smooth,  slippery, 
tenacious,  &c.  These,  with  their  co-ordinates,  are  the 
names  of  the  principal  sensations  of  which  we  become 
conscious  directly  through  touch.  They  are  the  units 
of  or  numerators  of  touch,  and  touch  itself  is  the  name 
given  to  their  common  denominator. 

Taste  directly  and  individually  cognizes  a  great 
variety  of  sensations.  Tlie  number  is  so  great  that  no 
classification  of  them  has  ever  yet  been  undertaken, 
nor  does  language  as  yet  afibrd  the  terms  necessary  for 
their  systematic  arrangement.  Only  a  few  specific 
units  of  taste  are  distinguished  by  words  essentially 
their  own.  Sweet,  sour,  bitter,  pungent,  are  the  only 
abstract  names  for  tastes  which  occur  to  me  now.  The 
other  tastes  are  named  after  the  objects  in  which  they 
are  found,  such  as — sugary,  honeyed,  salty,  spicy,  &c., 
&c. 

Sight  proclaims  color,  light,  and  shade  in  all  their 
combinations.  The  abstract  units  of  sight  are  not 
more  numerous  than  those  of  any  other  sense ;  but  it 
is  the  principal  instrument  by  which  we  become  con- 
scious of  concrete  units ;  for  it  enables  us  to  perceive 
(at  a  given  point  of  time,  or  space)  an  assemblage  of 
parts  forming  a  whole,  such  as  a  man,  a  beast,  a  vege- 
table, a  mineral,  &c.  It  is  the  organ  to  which  we  owe 
"  the  images "  formed  in  the  mind.  Yet,  as  we  have 
already  shown,  the  other  senses  (touch  more  than  the 


SENSATION.  93 

rest)  are  contributors  and  rectifiers.  Hence  we  err 
when  we  attach  the  ideas  of  space,  motion,  number, 
order,  place,  form,  size  and  the  like,  exclusively  to  sight ; 
and  a  closer  analysis  forces  us  to  acknowledge  that  the 
direct  function  of  sight  is  the  perception  of  color  and 
shade. 

Oyer  cognizes  sound.  It  furnishes  units  of  great 
precision ;  and  Music  with  its  seven  well-marked  notes, 
&c.,  is  its  offspring.  Some  have  thought  it  possible 
to  form  a  gamut  for  the  use  of  touch,  or  sight,  or  taste, 
or  smell,  with  names  of  degrees,  as  clearly  marked  as 
in  music.  Indeed,  Newton  and  his  disciples  have  al- 
ready done  this  for  color  ;  and  we  see  no  valid  reason 
for  declaring  it  impossible  in  the  domain  of  taste,  smell, 
or  even  touch.  Oyer,  however,  for  the  present  is  in 
the  advance.  Its  sensations  are  measured,  numbered, 
weighed,  classed,  and  named  with  a  perfection  truly 
admirable. 

Smell  is  the  most  isolated  of  the  senses,  so  that  its 
direct  functions  and  feelings  cannot  be  mistaken  ;  yet, 
whatever  may  be  the  cause,  nearly  all  its  feelings  are, 
like  those  of  taste,  named  after  the  experiences  of  the 
other  senses.  We  have  but  few  words  for  smells  which 
are  not  the  mere  transformations  of  the  names  of  con- 
crete objects.  No  measured  units  of  smell  have,  as 
yet,  been  discovered ;  and  its  ut-re-mi-fa-sol  remains  to 
be  framed.  Fragrance,  stink,  perfume,  fetor,  are  so 
general,  they  cannot  be  considered  as  designating  units. 


94  HUMANICS. 

In  the  preceding  paragraph  we  considered  the 
functions-^r<9^^/'  which  impart  severalty  to  the  senses. 
In  doino;  this  the  functions-common  forced  themselves 
upon  our  attention.  While  we  mentioned  the  distinct 
properties  which  make  the  senses  Tnany,  we  could  not 
help  recognizing  the  general  characteristics  which  make 
them  one.  We  could  not  help  this,  because,  while  we 
were  subtracting  from  all  the  properties  those  which 
were  special  to  a  particular  sense,  we  found  the  com- 
mon phenomena  so  united,  co-existent,  and  co-operative 
with  the  more  limited,  that  one  class  could  not  be  ob- 
served and  noted  w^ithout  the  other  being  present  in 
the  view  and  in  the  language  describing  it. 

After  enumerating : 

1.  Touch,  perceiving  substance  and  its  densities  ; 

2.  Taste,  perceiving  savor  and  its  phases  ; 

3.  Sight,  perceiving  color  and  its  shades  ; 

4.  Oyer,  perceiving  sound  and  its  tones  ; 

5.  Smell,  perceiving  odor  and  its  varieties 

the  fact  that  touch  extended  its  properties  to  all  the 
senses,  and  was  their  common  element,  became  appa- 
rent, and  we  have  noted  it. 

But  this  communion  shows  itself  by  other  evi- 
dences. 

In  all  the  senses  there  is  a  consciousness  of  inter- 
course with — 

I''.  Phenomena,  or  the  Concrete  and  Ostensible  ; 

2°.  FoKCE,  or  Impulse  and  Motion  : 

3°.  Law,  or  Necessity  and  Equilibrium  ; 


SENSATION.  95 

d**.  Space,  or  Extension  and  Place ; 
5°.  Time,  or  Duration  and  Moment. 

1.  Phenomena,  as  such,  could  never  be  the  data  of 
thought  without  being  felt  in  Sensation  as  the  evolu- 
tion or  resultant  of  some  Power  or  Force. 

2.  Force  and  Phenomena  would  be  as  chaos^  if  sen- 
sation were  not  conscious  of  the  subjection  of  the  exter- 
nal world  to  absolute  and  perpetual  laws. 

3.  Law,  Force,  and  Phenomena  would  be  as  dreams^ 
if  Sensation  did  not  realize  Space  as  containing  them. 

4.  Space,  Law^,  Force,  and  Phenomena  would  be 
one  eternal  noio^  if  Sensation  did  not  divulge  the  suc- 
cession of  Time. 

5.  Time,  Space,  Law,  Force,  and  Phenomena  would 
in  their  turn  be  "  unthinkable  " — that  is  to  saj,  never 
become  any  thing  more  than  driving  and  drawing  mo- 
tors of  instinct,  were  it  not  for  the  elementary  and 
egressive  powers  of  Thought,  of  which  I  will  treat  in 
the  next  chapter. 

Physiology  confirms  these  views,  and  enables  us  to 
define  not  only  the  ofiices  of  general  and  special  sense, 
but  also  to  find  the  distinction  between  Sensation  and 
Consciousness  in  one  degree,  as  well  as  between  In- 
stinct and  Thought  in  the  next. 

Physiology  shows  that  the  nerves  of  vision,  when 
shocked  by  a  blow,  or  a  current  of  electricity,  emit 
flashes  or  appearances  of  light  j  that  diseases  of  the 


96  HUMANICS. 

ear-tubes  sometimes  give  a  "  smging  in  the  eav^'^  or 
other  sensation  of  sound ;  that  the  nerves  of  vision  are 
insensible  to  sound,  and  those  of  hearing  insensible  to 
light ;  and  that  for  the  protection  of  the  eye-ball  na- 
ture has  provided  it  with  nerves  of  touch  distinct  from 
the  optic  or  light-perceiving  nerves,  &c.,  &c. 

On  tlie  other  hand,  however,  Physiology  teaches 
us  that  in  the  absence  of  sight  and  hearing,  touch  will 
enable  us  to  ascertain  Direction  and  Form,  Size  and 
Order,  Time  and  Space  ;  or  according  to  common  par- 
lance,  which  is  scientifically  correct,  the  "  strength  of 
the  wanting  sense  goes  into  the  other,"  which  becomes 
more  intense,  and  fulfils  the  office  of  the  two,  so  that 
the  blind  do  find  their  way  and  the  deaf  can  learn  to 
speak. 

Physiology  shows,  too,  that  tlie  trouble  of  the  born- 
blind  who  acquire  vision,  is  to  find  the  harmony  and 
common  properties  of  Touch  and  Vision. 

When  they  become  conscious  of  the  common  cen- 
tre of  the  two  sensations,  their  tribulations  cease,  and 
confusion  is  gradually  dispelled. 

Dr.  Wardrop  gives  a  very  interesting  account  of  the 
circumstances  which  followed  the  acquisition  of  sight 
by  a  lady,  on  whose  eyes  he  had  performed  an  opera- 
tion. Tlie  details  are  lengthy,  and  I  must  confine  my- 
self to  citing  one  or  two  passages  :  "  On  the  sixth  day 
she  seemed  indeed  bewildered  from  not  being  able  to 
combine  the  knowledge  acquired  by  the  senses  of  touch 


SENSATION.  97 

and  sight,  and  felt  disappointed  in  not  having  the 
power  of  distinguishing  at  once  by  her  eye,  objects 
which  she  could  so  readily  distinguish  from  one  another 
by  feeling  them.  On  the  seventh  day  the  teacups  and 
saucers  fell  under  her  observation.  '  What  are  they 
like  ? '  her  brother  asked  her.  '  I  don't  know,'  she  re- 
plied ;  *  they  look  very  queer  to  rae,  but  I  can  tell  you 
what  they  are  in  a  minute  if  I  touch  them.'  She  no- 
ticed an  orange  on  the  chimney-piece,  but  could  form 
no  notion  of  what  it  was  till  she  touched  it.  On  the 
eighth  day  she  seemed  to  have  become  more  cheerful, 
and  entertain  greater  expectation  of  comfort  from  her 
admission  to  the  visible  world,"  &c. 

Physiology  also  ascertains  the  homogeneity  of  the 
substance  or  matter  of  the  nerves.  Hence,  though 
Touch,  Sight,  Smell,  Hearing  and  Taste,  Sensibility 
and  Motion,  have  their  special  nerves,  these  nerves  are 
all  endowed  with  the  same  primary  qualities,  chemi- 
cally and  organically,  and  the  development  of  distinct 
functions  is  evidently  due,  not  to  a  diversity  or  contra- 
riety in  essence,  but  to  modifications  of  that  essence. 

Instinct,  that  machinery  which  drives  and  adapts 
the  actions  of  animals  in  the  most  complex  works,  does 
not  (with  the  introduction  of  consciousness)  desert  the 
Yertebrata.  Hence,  sometimes  when  they  act  from 
pure  instinct,  their  apparent  freedom,  and  the  con- 
7 


98  HUMANICS. 

sciousness  tliej  exhibit,  create  an  inference  of  ration- 
ality which  does  not  really  exist. 

As  man  possesses  consciousness  in  a  high  degree, 
and  can  comjDrehend  its  operations,  while  he  has 
hardly  any  gift  of  instinct,  and  can  barely  conceive 
what  instinct  is,  he  is  prone  to  attribute  the  instinctive 
acts  of  animals  to  the  powers  with  which  he  is  familiar, 
and  which  are  at  his  service.  The  acts  which  some 
beasts  and  insects  perform  instinctively,  man  may 
often  perform  by  the  aid  of  reason,  (and  without  the 
help  of  instinct,  which  for  many  purposes  is  refused 
him  ;)  so  that  he  naturally  imputes  the  actions  of  beasts 
and  insects  to  faculties  like  those  possessed  by  himself, 
and  by  which  he  is  enabled  to  accomplish  what  he  sees 
them  do.  It  is  not  till  beholding  them  proceed  with- 
out education,  experience,  or  reflection,  that  he  clearly 
apprehends  the  existence  of  instinct,  tlie  operations  of 
which  he  can  only  understand  when  he  observes  his 
own  reflex  actions  in  nutrition,  sleep,  generation,  &c. 

It  must  not  be  inferred  that  I  underrate  the  force 
of  instinct  in  man — he  is  much  indebted  to  this  prop- 
erty. 

In  the  study  of  Vitality  I  have  alluded  to  many 
proofs  of  this.  Most  every  thing  he  does  in  the  act  of 
feeding  is  instinctive,  so  in  the  acts  of  fighting,  of 
walking,  of  keeping  his  balance,  and  of  sexual  connec- 
tion. But  thought  constantly  intervenes  and  inter- 
meddles, so  that  it  is  difficult  to  separate  the  share  of 


SENSATION.  99 

intuition  from  that  of  deliberation.  Philosophy  has 
still  great  labors  to  perform,  in  making  a  careful  analy- 
sis of  particular  acts,  so  as  in  each  to  assign  the  specific 
shares  of  vitality,  instinct,  consciousness,  and  thought. 
Certain  it  is  they  are  all  four  present  in  almost  every 
movement  of  the  human  body. 

Now,  starting  from  the  facts  clearly  established  in 
our  study  of  Yitality,  to  wit : 

That  the  ablation  of  the  cerebrum  removes  con 
sciousness  ; 

That  (notwithstanding  the  removal  of  consciousness) 
certain  acts,  necessary  to  life,  are  determined  by  sensa- 
tion, and  are  duly  performed ; 

That  the  nerves  of  special  sense  have  a  direct  action 
upon  tlie  nerves  of  motion  ; 

That  the  Inveetebrata,  and  many  fishes,  have  no 
cerebrum,  and  yet  perform  acts  determined  by  the 
nerves  of  special  sense  ; 

I  infer — 

That  sensations  and  consciousness  should  be  dis- 
tinguished ;  should  be  as  positively  discriminated  one 
from  the  other,  as  any  one  special  sense  can  be  known 
from  another — the  distinction  is  as  great. 

Tliat  consciousness  is  a  modification  or  special  de- 
velopment of  sensation — -just  as  taste  or  smell  is  a 
modification  of  touch ;  and  that  the  differences  be- 
tween the  basis  and  the  mode  are  as  positive  in  one 
case  as  in  the  other. 


100  HUMANICS. 

It  may  be  difficult  for  tis  to  conceive  how,  for  in- 
stance, Bees  can  work  and  act  w^tliout  experiencing 
what  is  known  to  us  as  conscioijsness — that  is  to  say, 
without  the  faculty  of  combining  several  simultaneous 
sensations  into  one  ]3icture  or  idea — mie  co-ordinate 
assemblage  or  "  ensemhU  "  as  the  French  express  it. 

Yet  it  is  so  ;  and  must  be  so ;  for,  insects  have  no 
cerebrum. 

But  some  one  may  say  :  '''' ^erlia])s  the  nerves  and 
ganglia  of  special  sense,  in  insects,  do  the  office  of  Con- 
sciousness or  of  the  Cerebrum."  To  this  I  reply  :  your 
^' jperhaps'''^  is  no  argument  against  a  plain  induction 
from  ascertained  facts;  your  '-'- jpevliaijs^^  contradicts 
the  speciality  of  the  several  kinds  of  nerves,  and  gives. 
to  each  kind  two  special  functions ;  your  '-^ ])eTlia]^s " 
is  at  war  with  the  economy  of  nature  in  the  plan  of 
"  dimsion  of  Icibov^'^  which  she  strictly  observes,  and 
in  her  other  plan  of  "  doing  nothing  in  vain^''  a  rule 
from  which  she  never  departs.  Surely  nature  would 
not  have  made  a  new  organ  (a  cerebrum)  to  evolve 
consciousness,  if  the  special  nerves  had  been  capable 
of  it,  and  if  it  already  existed  by  their  evolutions  ;  for 
in  that  case  the  accession  of  a  cerebrum  would  have 
been  wholly  unnecessary. 

If  we  cannot  implicitly  rely  upon  the  economy  and 
constancy  of  nature,  all  reasoning  must  cease. 

Eclating  in  detail  the  acts  of  Bees  and  other  in- 
sects, those  who  suppose  the  necessity  of  consciousness 


SENSATION.  101 

for  these  acts,  exclaim  :  "  How  can  we  understand 
doings  so  wonderful  and  complex,  unless  we  admit  a 
consciousness  in  the  actor  ?  How  could  these  acts  be 
done  without  a  combined  assemblage  of  phenomena 
in  perception  ? " 

I  answer : 

Though  the  How  and  the  "Why  be  unknown  the 
fact  is  not  the  less  certain  ;  and  if  we  cannot  form  a 
clear  conception  of  the  cause  and  process  of  action 
without  consciousness,  neither  could  we  with  it ;  for, 
as  I  will  presently  show,  consciousness  would  explain 
nothing — the  mystery,  if  mystery  there  is,  would  be  as 
ffreat  as  ever. 

The  insects  go  directly  to  their  work  and  do  it  to 
perfection,  from  the  instant  of  their  hirth. 

They  erect  a  complicated  castle,  and  its  architec- 
ture conforms  to  the  most  abstruse  laws  of  physics  and 
mathematics,  though  they  have  received  no  education 
in  the  art  they  practise. 

Each  does  a  share,  executes  a  distinct  operation  of 
the  process ;  one  carries  the  material,  and  another 
scoops  out  the  cell ;  they  are  all  working  at  the  same 
time,  order  and  system  prevail  in  their  manoeuvres ; 
and  a  beautiful  edifice  of  harmonious  parts  and  adapted 
totality  is  constructed,  yet  none  of  the  workmen  ever 
did  or  saw  such  worTc  hefore. 

Hence,  the  argument  drawn  from  the  complication 
or  design  of  the  work  amounts  to  nothing  in  favor  of 
consciousness  ;  for  if  the  works  are  performed  without 


102  HUMANICS. 

previous  knowledge,  instruction,  or  experience,  and 
only  by  virtue  of  an  innate  impulse  and  direction,  as 
tliey  evidently  are,  of  what  use  w^ould  consciousness  be 
to  the  workers  ?  Of  no  use,  since  they  do  not  obey 
consciousness,  any  more  than  do  the  spindles  and  looms 
of  a  cotton  factory. 

True  it  is  their  "vvork  exhibits  evidences  of  design, 
but  the  design  is  not  theirs:  it  is  that  of  God — the 
Universal  Mind — the  Grand  Archeus  of  the  Universe. 

Is  it  reiterated  that  the  insects  go  and  come — that 
to  find  their  food  they  must  seek  it,  that  to  gather  it 
they  must  Icnow  it,  when  found.  I  answer  again ;  sen- 
sation, direct  mechanical  sensation,  under  the  compul- 
sion of  a  predestined  organism,  is  the  sufficient  and  only 
solution  consistent  with  all  the  facts — consistent,  for  in- 
stance, with  the  fact  that  each  kind  of  w^orker  is  formed 
peculiarly  for  a  specific  species  of  labor  ;  and  the  fact 
that  among  many  tribes  of  insects  the  parents  die  be- 
fore their  progeny  are  born ;  and  among  others  the 
eggs  of  a  brood  are  hatched  by  the  elements  ;  and  yet 
the  work  of  every  generation  is  duly  done.  Thus,  it  is 
not  a  whit  more  wonderful  that  thev  should  seek  their 
food  without  being  conscious  of  it,  than  that  they 
should  build  their  palaces  without  knowing  how. 

Certain  it  is  they  have  not  the  organ  /  and,  there- 
fore, cannot  possess  a  consciousness. 

Consciousness  is  the  union  of  various  simultaneous 


SENSATION.  ]03 

sensations  into  one — so  as  thej  all  together  form  one 
tableau  or  idea. 

Consciousness  is  the  combining  of  many  direct  sen- 
sations in  due  accordance  with  present  reality. 

Consciousness,  as  well  as  sensation,  is  revived  in 
Memory ;  but  the  Memory  of  consciousness  is  concrete. 

Consciousness  is  therefore  the  summary  of  sensa- 
tion. 

The  seat  of  consciousness  is  the  cerebrum,  and  it 
determines  action  tliroiigli  the  cerebellum ;  and  the 
Vertebrata  are  therefore  endowed  with  consciousness. 

It  does  not  give  liberty  ;  for  its  operations  are  posi- 
tive or  imperative ;  but  it  imparts  greater  variety  and 
complexity  of  motives  y  and  consequently  of  action. 

Hence,  when  we  see  the  Orang-Outang,  the  Ele- 
phant, the  Horse,  the  Dog,  the  Fox,  the  Kat,  &c.,  de- 
ceiving, or  decoying  foes,  practising  cunning  ruse,  se- 
lecting the  lit  mode  within  their  reach  to  attain  an 
object,  when  we  read  the  thousand  and  one  anecdotes 
related  of  their  so-called  "intelligence,"  we  will  not  be 
able  to  find  any  thing  in  them  beyond  the  spontaneous 
suggestions  of  their  concrete  Memory  and  Consciousness, 
aided  in  many  instances  by  the  still  more  wonderful 
incentives  of  their  instinct.  We  will  not  fail  to  ob- 
serve that  the  motives  which  appear  to  their  conscious- 
ness, are  obeyed  without  deliberation  /  and  that  if 
not  checked  or  deterred  by  the  accidental  and  inter- 
vening occurrence  of  another  direct  perception,  the 
animal  will  unhesitatingly  fulfil  the  dictates  of  feeling 


104  HUMANICS. 

on  the  one  side,  and  seize  the  means  of  gratification 
presented  to  consciousness  on  the  other.  Impelled  by 
hunger,  self-preservation,  fear,  anger,  &c., — aided  by 
the  acuteness  of  their  senses, — while  the  scene  around 
them  is  lighted  up  by  consciousness,  they  do  all  that 
man  could  do,  if  he  were  deprived  of  his  powers  of  ab- 
straction, meditation,  &c. 

When  the  acts  of  sub-human  animals  cannot  be 
traced  to  direct  prOjpelli7ig  motives  they  may  appear  to 
be  free  and  rational,  simply  because  we  do  not  suffi- 
ciently consider  the  variety  of  attracting  forces  which 
consciousness  subjects  them  to,  when  it  reveals  the 
whole  scope  of  the  horizon  to  their  view  and  activity. 

But  it  is  not  until  we  come  to  the  study  of  liuTYian 
thought^  and  have  discussed  its  distinctive  traits,  that 
the  true  nature  and  purview  of  consciousness  can  be 
made  fully  apparent.  At  present  we  content  our- 
selves with  the  remark  that  man  seeks,  finds,  malces 
motives^  subjects  them  to  examination  and  revision, 
accepts  or  rejects  them,  but  other  animals  cannot  do  it. 

Since  consciousness  unites  all  the  sensations  of  feel, 
sight,  sound,  taste,  and  odor — blends  them  together — the 
faculty  of  suggestion  necessarily  arises  ;  for  fusion  and 
conj  unction  of  several  sensations  implies  an  interchange, 
and  therefore  suggestion.  Each  sense  brings  its  mes- 
sage to  the  common  centre,  and  an  entire  picture  is 
formed.  Each  with  its  s])ecial  impression  of  quality, 
brings  its  indication  of  time,  place,  force,  and  motion. 


SENSATION.  105 

Of  these  four  last  mentioned,  and  perhaps  in  others, 
they  have  a  common  susceptibility,  and  are  therefore 
able  to  correspond  with,  and  react  upon  one  another. 

Association  of  impressions  takes  place ;  and  hence 
the  "  scalded  cat  dreads  cold  water." 

But  what  is  the  definite  purview  of  Consciousness  f 

If  we  could  bring  our  mind,  notwithstanding  the 
constant  interference  of  thought,  to  conceive  its  state 
when  first  perceiving  a  novelty,  and  before  turning 
over  the  perception  in  reflexion,  we  would  have  a  clear 
idea  of  the  purview  of  consciousness.  The  image  of  the 
objects  would  be  distinctly  within  the  sensorium,  with 
form,  color,  space,  time,  motion,  totality,  and  such  like, 
before  being  analyzed,  classified,  referred  either  in 
whole  or  in  part  to  an  essential  type,  and  before  being 
numbered  and  measured,  according  to  any  standard. 

The  image  thus  given  might  occasion  pain  or 
pleasure,  revive  the  memory  of  some  other  previous 
impression,  start  some  reaction  of  motor  nerve ;  but  no 
reasoned  conception  would  exist. 

IN^ow  suppose  we  were  incapable  of  subjecting  the 
image  to  any  revision,  that  we  were  not  conscious  of 
any  laws  of  nature,  or  grounds  of  deduction  and  indue, 
tion,  and  the  image  would  work  upon  our  sensorium 
uncontrolled  by  ourselves,  and  should  provoke  a  deter- 
mination of  action  without  deliberation  on  our  part :  if 
we  could  realize  to  ourselves  a  condition  like  this,  we 
would  then  have  a  correct  conception  of  the  sensational 
consciousness  of  fishes,  reptiles,  birds,  and  beasts. 


106  HUMANICS. 

There  are  degrees  of  consciousness. 

In  Fishes  the  cerebrum  is  in  a  rudimentary  state  ; 
in  Keptiles  it  begins  to  assume  a  somewhat  more  dis- 
tinct but  still  undeveloped  form;  in  Birds  it  presents 
a  notable  improvement,  but  there  is  yet  no  separation 
of  the  hemispheres;  in  Mammalia  it  unfolds  all  its 
principal  parts,  and  in  man  its  formation  is  completed. 

But  it  is  not  only  from  class  to  class  that  this  pro- 
gression takes  place,  but  it  is  also  observable  through 
the  orders  of  each  class — till  the  cerebrum  of  man  is 
attained. 

The  first  appearance  of  the  cerebrum  in  fishes,  is 
that  of  a  small  bulb  of  nervous  substance  without  ven- 
tricles, convolutions,  &c. ;  but,  as  the  seriation  ad- 
vances, the  softer  portions  are  deposited  on  the  ex- 
terior and  the  more  solid  matter  in  the  centre ;  the 
gray  matter  makes  its  appearance  ;  the  radiating  fibres, 
the  commissural  fibres ;  the  corpus  callosum  ;  the  ven- 
tricles ;  the  convolutions,  &c. ;  w^hile  each  particular 
part  after  first  showing  itself  as  a  simple  germ  in  one 
class,  becomes  embryonic  in  the  next,  takes  a  distinct 
shape  in  the  next,  and  finally  developes  itself  with 
granules,  threads,  converging  and  diverging  radii,  stri- 
ata, &c.,  in  man. 

But  as  between  man  and  the  higher  Mammalia 
there  are  no  new  jparts  yet  discovered  by  comparative 
anatomy,  nothing  to  indicate  a  new  organ.  There  is 
greater  elaboration,  more  distinctness,  more  details — 
the  threads  cross  each  other  with  greater  complexity ; 
but  there  is  nothing  to  divulge  any  new  function. 


SENSATION.  107 

Consciousness  alone  is  j)erfected. 

Hence,  in  conformity  witli  what  we  know  of  tlie 
grades  of  consciousness  as  displayed  in  tlie  actions  of 
animals,  we  see  a  seriated  development  of  the  organ ; 
and  find  that  the  bodily  formation  and  active  display 
proceed  in  parity. 

Hence  the  powers  of  consciousness  in  man,  are  and 
must  be  more  intense  and  complex  than  in  any  other 
creature. 

Beyond  sensational  consciousness,  the  sub-human 
animals  do  not  go.  Mere  perception  of  direct  or  imme- 
diate phenomena,  in  concrete  aggregation,  is  sufficient 
to  explain  all  the  wonderful  stories  told  of  their  so- 
called  "  intelligence." 

Hence  it  is  I  am  led  to  believe  that  phrenologists, 
in  naming  several  organs  of  the  cerebrum,  have  hu- 
manized them  too  much.  The  rational  element  of 
humanity  is  so  constantly  involving  itself  with  all  our 
acts,  vital,  instinctive,  or  conscious,  so  modifies  and 
commands  memory  or  suggestion,  that  we  can  hardly 
separate  the  ingredients  even  in  nomenclature;  and 
consequently  phrenology  has  in  some  instances  imputed 
a  rational  essence  to  some  organs  of  consensual  j)ercep- 
tion.  Eevising  the  names  of  this  portion  of  the  organs, 
I  would  regard  their  functions  to  be, — 

Individuality^  but  not  Combination ; 

Eventuality^  but  not  Operation  ; 

Locality^  but  not  Circumscription ; 


108  HUMANICS. 

Form^  but  not  Symmetry  or  Proportion ; 

Extension,  but  not  Bize  or  Dimension ; 

Force,  but  not  Weight,  or  Eesolution  of  Forces  ; 

Color,  but  not  Catoptrics  ; 

Interjacence,  but  not  Order  ; 

Severality,  but  not  Nwriber  or  Computation ; 

Time,  but  not  Chronometry ; 

Tune,  but  not  Rhythm  ; 

Language,  but  not  Grammar. 

In  one  word : 
Quality,  but  not  Quantity. 
Imagery,  but  not  Measure. 

And  I  now  add  to  this  list  of  Sensations  even  those 
two  mighty  faculties  miscalled  intellectual  or  reasoning 
faculties. 

CoMPAEisoN,  which  is  simply  the  perception  of  iden- 
tity and  variety. 

Causality,  which  is  simply  the  perception  of  con- 
nection and  disconnection. 

What!  exclaims  the  reader,  are  these  two  grand 
faculties  to  be  reduced  to  the  category  of  mere  sensa- 
tions ?  these  reasoning  faculties  which  belong  to  man 
alone — these  rational  organs  which  invest  us  with  our 
superiority  over  the  brutes,  are  they  to  be  given  up  to 
our  animality,  at  the  expense  of  our  humanality  ? 

Indeed,  it  must  be  so,  for  observation  commands 
this  classification ;  and  when  I  come  to  the  study  of 


SENSATION.  109 

Thought,  I  liope  to  be  justified ;  but,  in  the  mean  time, 
I  beg  attention  to  the  remark — that  if  we  doubt  a  dog's 
faculty  of  COMPARISON,  vre  must  deny  his  ability  of  dis- 
tinguishing his  master  from  another  person  at  sight ;  or 
if  we  doubt  his  causality,  we  may  try  whether  when 
we  pick  up  a  stone  and  offer  to  throw  it  at  a  dog,  he 
will  run  or  not. 

Then,  what  is  there  left  for  man  alone  ?  Much — 
much  more  than  he  has,  so  far,  fully  appreciated  as  his 
exclusive  property :  an  atom  of  the  divinity — a  spirit — 
an  Archeus — not  only  superior,  but  different  from  any 
material  or  physiological  endowments.  What  is  it? 
I  will  attempt  an  answer,  but  before  doing  so,  I  must 
dispose  of  the  emotions. 


III. 

EMOTIOIsr. 

What  are  those  vibrations,  agitations,  calms,  thrills, 
tremors,  shocks,  quietudes,  ardors,  apathies,  quicken- 
ings,  reactions,  and  even  indifferences  we  feel  within 
ourselves,  and  which  cannot  be  identified  with  either 
Vitality,  Sensation,  Thought,  or  Action  ? 

Tliey  are  what  we  call  Emotions,  of  which  there  is 
a  great  multitude,  and  of  this  multitude,  each  unit  has 
a  known  character  and  name  ;  the  principal  ones  being, 
according  to  Phrenology,  Amativeness,  Parental  Love, 
Adhesiveness,  Inhabitiveness,  Constancy,  Vitativeness, 
Combativeness,  Destructiveness,  Alimentive?iess,  Ac- 
quisitiveness, Secretiveness,  Cautiousness,  Approbative- 
ness,  Self-Esteem,  Firmness,  Conscientiousness,  Hope, 
Faith,  or  Spirituality,  Yeneration,  Charity,  or  Benevo- 
lence, Constructiveness,  Ideality,  or  Beauty,  Sublimity, 
Imitation,  Mirthfulness,  and  Human  l^ature. 

Tliey  cannot  be  confounded  with  Sensation,  Con- 


EMOTION.  Ill 

sciousness,  or  Thought,  but  may  be  influenced  or  aroused 
by  either. 

They  are  not  Sensation,  for  Sensation  sometimes 
causes  them,  and  to  identify  them  with  Sensation,  would 
be  to  confound  effects  with  causes. 

They  are  not  Consciousness,  for  Consciousness  is  a 
mirror,  and  to  identify  them  with  Consciousness,  would 
be  to  confound  the  reflector  with  the  rays  it  radiates. 

Tliey  are  not  Thought,  for  Thought  is  their  judge 
and  mentor,  and  to  identify  them  with  Thought,  would 
be  to  confound  force  with  law ;  the  steam  with  the 
engine. 

Yet  wQfeel  the  Emotions,  we  are  conscious  of  them, 
we  can  think  them ;  but,  in  doing  so,  we  become  more 
fully  aware  that  they  are  the  vibrations  of  our  organism 
when  played  upon  by  Sensation,  Consciousness,  and 
Thought ;  as  distinctly  so  as  are  the  vibrations  of  a 
harp  string  from  the  hand  that  strikes  them. 

Besides,  the  Emotions  are  sometimes  awakened  by 
Sensations  alone,  sometimes  by  Consciousness  alone, 
sometimes  by  Thought  alone,  and  sometimes  by  all  three 
together — thus  showing  that  neither  of  these  thy^ee  can  be 
Emotion  itself,  as  it  exists  sometimes  without  sensation, 
sometimes  without  consciousness,  and  sometimes  with- 
out thought,  and  therefore  is  not  a  property  of  either. 

"Without  Sensation  ?  Yes  ;  for  the  loves  of  the  plants ; 
the  special  warmth  and  excitation  evinced  by  their  or- 
gans of  generation  at  the  time  of  conjugation ;  the  recoil 
of  the  Mimosa  when  touched ;  the  combat  of  the  Diongea 


112  HUMANICS. 

with  every  insect  that  touches  it ;  the  tendency  of  all 
plants  to  seek  for  heat,  light,  electricity,  and  food ;  the 
loves  and  acts  of  those  insects  which  have  no  nerves, 
no  organs  of  sense,  and  which  are  only  distinguishable 
from  plants  by  their  mode  of  nutrition  and  growth  ;  and 
even  the  loves  of  the  turtle-dove,  "which  attaches  itself 
to  its  mate,  not  by  virtue  of  any  disclosure  of  sense,  but 
by  virtue  of  a  predetermined  instinct  which  nothing 
can  revoke ;  the  gregarious  feeling  of  many  animals, 
such  as  ants,  bees,  sheep,  and  men,  which  gregarious- 
ness  being  in  these  species  and  not  in  others,  no  opera- 
tions of  sensation  suffices  to  explain — all  these  facts, 
and  many  others  too  numerous  to  mention,  clearly  show 
that  emotion  may  exist  without  sensation. 

Without  Consciousness  ?  A  fortiori^  if  emotion 
may  exist  without  sensation,  it  may  without  conscious- 
ness, which  is  only  the  summary  of  sensation  ;  and, 
moreover,  we  know  that  the  Bee,  the  Wasp,  &c.,  w^ho 
evince  anger,  combativeness,  fear,  and  other  emotions, 
have  no  cerebrum,  and  therefore  no  consciousness. 
They  have  sensation  only,  and  through  it  their  emo- 
tional properties  may  be  excited ;  but  tlie  fact  that 
emotion  existed  before  sensation,  having  forced  us  to 
conchide  that  emotion  was  identical  with  it,  we  must 
conclude  that  it  only  opens  a  new  avenue  to  sensibility ; 
and  that  consciousness  is  only  another  avenue  which 
may,  or  may  not,  exist.  But  it  is  in  man  that  the  non- 
essentiality  of  consciousness  to  emotion  is  the  most  ap- 
parent;  for  man  is  combative,  secretive,  destructive, 


EMOTION.  113 

cautious,  acquisitive,  &c.,  by  innate  instincts,  which, 
far  from  originating  with  consciousness,  conti'ol  it,  sway 
it,  and  subject  it  to  their  tendencies  and  uses. 

Without  Thouojht?  None  will  contest  the  non- 
identity  of  emotion  and  thought ;  and  many  would  be 
ready  to  assert  a  repulsion  to  exist  between  the  two. 
In  fact,  the  frequent  clashings  between  judgment  and 
inclination,  will  and  desire,  is  sufficient,  at  least,  to 
prove  that  they  are  distinct.  Happy  is  the  man  who, 
in  accordance  w^ith  the  designs  of  the  Grand  Archeus, 
succeeds  in  harmonizing  these  two  elements  of  self,  and 
sets  them  to  act  in  unison  with  each  other  and  with  the 
laws  of  nature. 

Attempts  have  been  made  to  confine  the  idea  of 
Emotion  to  the  mere  pain  or  jpleasuve  we  feel  on  be- 
coming conscious  of  certain  sensations  ;  but  this  defini- 
tion, for  several  reasons,  will  be  found  inadequate  to 
convey  a  correct  understanding  of  what  Emotion  is. 

It  is  not  enough  to  say  that  Emotion  is  pain  or 
pleasure,  for  it  is  evident  that  to  feel  either  of  these, 
the  organism  or  medium  must  be  gifted  \^\\\\ ])roiKTties 
or  energies^  which  render  it  susceptible  or  prone.  A 
stone  cannot  feel  emotion.  Why  ?  Simply  because  it 
possesses  no  property  of  excitability  within  itself,  it  has 
no  innate  energies  resolvable  into  emotion. 

Pain  and  pleasure  are  only  two  of  the  most  general 

effects  of  emotion.     They  are  not  emotion  itself,  for  to 

describe  the  emotions,  we  are  compelled  to  use  other 

terms  than  "  Pain  "  and  ^'  Pleasure."     We  must  say : 
8 


114  HUMANICS. 

affection,  content,  regret,  cheerfulness,  dejection,  joy, 
sorrow,  beauty,  hope,  despair,  fear,  diffidence,  courage, 
wonder,  pride,  vanity,  humility,  modesty,  friendship, 
enmity,  sociability,  melancholy,  love,  hate,  benevo- 
lence, pity,  gratitude,  respect,  veneration,  contempt, 
piety,  and  a  thousand  other  terms  which  may  or  may 
not  imply  any  suffering  or  enjoyment;  sometimes 
neither,  and  often  either,  according  to  circumstances. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  include  all  the  emotions 
m  a  classification  comprising  only  the  two  heads  of 
pain  and  pleasure.  Many  would  come  mider  neither ; 
and  even  those  which  might  be  ranged  on  one  side  or 
the  other,  might,  by  a  rising  or  sinking  of  intensity,  ex- 
hibit the  opposite  condition.  Thus,  Benevolence  may 
become  Pity  or  Sorrow ;  Shame  may  be  softened  into 
Modesty  or  Bashfulness. 

It  has,  doubtless,  already  been  remarked  that  in 
separating  Emotion — in  distinguishing  it  from  every 
thing  else,  I  have  not  excluded  vitality ;  and  the  infer- 
ence to  be  drawn  is,  that  I  can  find  no  essential  differ- 
ence between  Vitality  and  Emotion. 

Is  there  any  ? 

If  there  is,  it  must  be  deduced  from  the  following 
definition,  which  I  believe  to  be  true  : 

Emotion  is  the  ^manifestation^  within  the  organism 
of  the  motive  jpro^erties  of  Vitality. 

This  manifestation  may  be  determined  in  different 
modes : 


EMOTION.  115 

1.  It  may  spring  up  in  Vitality  by  virtue  of  the  vi- 
tal force  itself. 

2.  It  may  be  quickened  by  Sensation. 

3.  It  may  be  illuminated  by  Consciousness. 

4.  It  may  harmonize,  in  sympathy,  with  Thought ; 
or, 

5.  It  may  be  developed  by  two  or  more  of  these 
forces  acting  in  diiferent  proportions  and  under  dif- 
ferent conditions. 

Hence  according  to  this  theory,  if  Emotion  be  dis- 
tinguishable at  all  from  Vitality,  it  is  not  otherwise 
than  as  Form  from  Matter,  Color  from  Light. 

And  this  is  indeed  an  important  and  strongly  mark- 
ed difference ;  for  there  are  few  minds  that  cannot 
realize  it  as  a  valid  distinction. 

-l^one  who  feel  themselves  will  deny  that  emotion 
is  vital — that  all  we  know  of  it  is  in  the  modifications 
of  our  vital  feelings  ;  but  every  one  admits  a  positive 
discrimination  between  properties  and  the  phenomena 
they  evolve.  How  many,  for  instance,  are  the  modes 
in  which  gravitation  appears,  the  falling  apple,  re- 
volving worlds,  flowing  waters,  tfec.,yet  we  all  concede 
the  necessity  of  not  confounding  weight  and  motion. 
So  it  is  w^ith  fuel,  heat,  and  light ;  and  thus,  among 
many  other  comparisons,  we  might  give  this  one  :  Vi- 
tality is  a  flame  radiating  its  own  heat  and  light,  or 
emotions,  stirred  by  the  poker  of  sensation,  reflected  in 
the  mirror  of  consciousness,  conducted  by  the  flues  of 
thought,  burning  its  own  elements,  and  dying  if  the 
fuel  is  not  renewed. 


116  HUMANICS. 

Whatever  excites  emotion  in  one  person,  may  not 
affect  another  in  the  least,  or  may  induce  a  very  differ- 
ent feeling. 

Thus,  noise  may  irritate  and  anger  the  nervous  or 
studious  man,  but  does  not  disturb  the  phlegmatic,  and 
would  please  a  child.  The  corrupt  smile  at  vice,  but 
the  pure  behold  it  with  indignation.  Merriment  en- 
livens the  happy,  but  shocks  the  miserable  man. 

Since  the  causes  of  Emotion  are  so  multiple;  since 
our  mere  vital  condition,  state  of  health,  etc.,  has 
so  much  to  do  with  them  ;  since  every  shade  and  kind 
of  Sensation  may  move  them  ;  since  every  aspect  and 
phase  of  Consciousness  may  evoke  them ;  since  every 
evolution  of  thought  may  influence  them  ;  and  since  all 
these  determining  powers  cross  and  intermingle  in  so 
many  ways  and  proportions,  the  number  of  complex 
emotions  actually  felt  must  be  very  large ;  they  must 
be  as  numerous  as  could  be  the  permutations  of  many 
numerical  digits  arrayed  in  twos,  threes,  fours,  &c.,  and 
this  ^vould  be  millions. 

At  the  same  time  as  it  is  only  through  the  what-is- 
felt — only  in  the  concrete  feeling  just  as  it  presents  it- 
self, that  ^ve  know  of  emotions ;  so  by  this  feeling  do 
w^e  name  them.  Hence  we  have  in  our  dictionaries  a 
multitude  of  terms  to  express  and  designate  various 
complex  feelings  ;  and  but  very  few  (I  ought  rather  to 
say  none)  for  any  unmixed  and  strictly  abstract  emo- 
tion. 


EMOTION.  117 

Nor  do  the  complex  terms,  at  our  command,  suffice, 
for  we  are  constantly  obliged  to  resort  to  whole  phrases 
and  sentences  to  express  the  conditions  and  movements 
of  the  Soul. 

But,  confining  our  attention  to  the  words  singly,  we 
find  that  language  (having  been  formed  apart  from  any 
view  to  abstract  analysis  or  exhaustive  classifications, 
but  under  the  pressure  of  direct  and  compound  neces- 
sities) gives  us  terms  only  for  the  what-is-felt,  as  it  is 
felt ;  and  hence  the  Dictionary,  beginning  at  "  Abash  " 
or  "  Abashment,"  and  ending  with  ''  Zealousness,"  con- 
tains, at  least,  two  thousand  words  expressive  of  states 
or  disturbances  of  feeling ;  while  also  every  one  of  these 
words  conveys  a  composite  meaning. 

There  is,  for  instance,  in  "  Hate,"  as  well  as  in 
"  Contempt,"  a  sentiment  of  antipathy  or  repulsion ; 
but,  in  one  case,  it  is  mingled  with  an  idea  of  the  harm- 
fulness  of  the  object,  and  in  the  other  of  its  impotency. 
In  one  the  basis  of  feeling  may  be  the  hostility  of  Vice 
to  Yirtue,  or  of  Justice  to  Wrong,  while,  in  the  other, 
it  is  often  the  opposition  of  Gravity  to  Futility,  or  the 
like.  Nor  are  these  terms  even  so  simple  as  to  require 
us  to  stop  the  analysis  at  this  point.  Hate  has,  for  in- 
stance, its  degrees :  it  may  be  only  aversion,  grudge, 
spite,  resentment,  or  it  may  be  disgust,  malice,  detesta- 
tion, abhorrence,  abomination,  implacability,  &c.  In 
Hate,  too,  if  it  be  caused  by  an  act  of  injustice,  and 
not  by  mere  instinctive  repulsion,  the  intellectual  powers 
may  be  concerned ;  for,  in  this  case,  hate  depends  upon 


118  HUMANICS. 

the  judgment  of  right  and  wrong,  and  may  cease  through 
any  detection  of  error  in  premises  or  conchision. 

Hence,  it  would  be  a  difficult  task,  indeed,  to  form 
a  satisfactory  list  or  catalogue,  or  classification  of  pri- 
mary uncompounded  emotions.  We  have  in  Physics 
the  j)rimitive  colors,  in  Chemistry  we  have  the  "  ele- 
mentary bodies  ;  "  but,  in  Psychology,  the  radical  emo- 
tions have  not  been  completely  ascertained.  Language, 
in  its  present  state,  almost  precludes  a  systematic  clas- 
sification ;  for  the  terms  at  the  disposal  of  the  philoso- 
pher, are  not  only  complex  in  themselves,  but  run  into 
one  another,  and  any  one  word  will  imply  some  condi- 
tion or  meaning  belonging  to  many  others  having  wath 
it  apparently  no  connection. 

Phrenology  has  attempted  the  desired  classification 
of  Emotion ;  and  even  were  we  to  discard  its  Anatom- 
ical and  Physiological  pretensions.  Phrenology  would 
still  hold  a  high  rank  among  Psychological  systems. 

The  phrenological  theory  is,  that — 

All  the  functions  and  faculties  of  man  are  the  source 
and  seat  of  emotion.  Knowledge  supplies  motives,  and 
feeling  induces  thought  and  action.  The  motor  nerves 
have  direct  or  indirect  intercourse  with  the  whole  man. 
His  vital,  animal,  and  rational  nature,  separately  or  to- 
gether, vibrate  in  emotion,  so  that  it  may  be  said  every 
feeling  or  thought  is  emotion  ;  and  thus  we  would 
have 


EMOTION.  119 

1°.  Love  of  Being,  represented  by  tlie  vital  in- 
stincts. 

2°.  Love  of  Having,  represented  by  the  Propensi- 
ties. 

3°.  Love  of  Doing,  represented  by  the  Sentiments. 

4:°.  Love  of  Knowing,  represented  by  tlie  Percep- 
tive and  Intellectual  organs. 

5°.  Love  of  Speaking,  represented  by  the  organ  of 
Language,  moved  by  the  rest. 

But  they  are  all  concerned  with  each  other,  and  it 
is  difficult  to  group  them. 

Taking  the  emotions,  as  represented  by  the  Phreno- 
logical synopsis,  it  will  be  found  that  they  will  admit 
of  the  following  division : 

1°.  The  love  of  Life  or  Egotism,  represented  by  the 
Selfish  and  Domestic  Propensities,  or  as  I  would  pre- 
fer to  call  and  class  them  Subjective  and  Objective  Self- 
ishness. The  subjective  or  wholly  selfish  are  Self-esteem, 
Approbativeness  (?)  Cautiousness,  Combativeness,  Se- 
cretiveness,  Acquisitiveness,  Distinctiveness,  and  Ali- 
mentiveness,  which  descend  from  the  stem  of  Selfishness. 
The  Ohjective  or  Selfishness,  in  objects  of  afi'ection  or 
propensity,  are  Amativeness,  which  is  a  selfish  desire 
to  gratify  the  genital  functions ;  Philo-pkogenitiveness, 
the  attachment  to  one's  own  progeny ;  Inhabitiveness, 
which  is  selfishness,  applied  to  locality  ;  Adhesiveness, 
which  is  selfish  pleasure  in  gregariousness,  or  in  chosen 
objects  of  companionship;  and  Concentkativeness  (?) 


120  HUMANICS, 

or  ratlier  Constanc}',  which  produces  continuity  of  af- 
fection towards  the  objects  chosen.  Consteuctiveness, 
which  is  the  selfish  instinct  whereby  birds  and  insects 
are  enabled  to  build  their  nests,  or  beasts  and  fishes 
their  lair,  as  the  bee  its  hive,  the  beaver  its  lodge,  &c. 
The  language  of  these  organs  is :  My  Wife,  My  Chil- 
dren, My  home,  J/y  friends ;  may  /  never  be  parted 
from  them. 

2°.  The  love  of  Knowledge  or  Curiosity  by  the 
Percej^tive  Faculties,  of  which  we  have  already  treated 
in  the  study  of  sensation. 

3°.  The  love  of  Truth  or  Hope  represented  by  a 
group  composed  of  Conscientiousness,  Firmness  (?),  and 
Hope. 

4°.  The  love  of  Beauty  or  Faith,  represented  by  a 
group  composed  of  Veneration,  Marvellousness,  Sub- 
limity (?),  and  Ideality. 

5^.  The  love  of  Morality  or  Charity,  represented  by 
a  group  composed  of  Benevolence,  Imitation  (?),  Mirth- 
fulness,  and  Language.  Some  would  add  Human  Sym- 
pathy and  Suavit}^ 

I  have  marked  some  of  these  names  with  a  point 
of  interrogation,  in  order  to  suggest,  that — 

1°.  Approbativeness  is  a  perfectly  selfish  faculty  :  it 
seeks  to  please  only  for  the  sake  of  self-glory  or  van- 
ity ;  it  fears  tlie  ill-will  of  others ;  it  delights  in  their 
praise,  but  it  does  not  love  tliem^  or  care  for  them,  oth- 
erwise than  for  ihQ  flattery  they  may  offer. 


EMOTION.  121 

2°.  Concentrativcness  is  a  misnomer.  It  ought  to 
liave  occuiTed  to  Combe  that  nature  in  her  consistent 
symmetry  would  not  have  located  an  intellectual  organ 
among  the  propensities  ;  but  that  the  continuity  evinced 
by  those  whose  heads  served  him  to  mark  this  organ 
was  the  continuity  (and  therefore  the  concentration)  of 
affection.  Indeed,  Spurzheim  did  not  concur  in  Combe's 
opinion,  declared  that  his  experience  was  in  contradic- 
tion with  them,  and  Combe  himself  only  gives  the 
name  as  conjectural  /  and  the  mistakes  made  by  prac- 
tical phrenologists,  who  have  received  the  conjecture 
as  demonstration,  might  serve  to  discredit  their  art,  if 
in  other  respects  it  not  redeem  itself.  Continuity  of 
affection,  instead  of  continuity  of  thought,  is  probably 
much  nearer  tlie  truth. 

3*^.  Imitation  is  evidently  sym2?athy^  a  sort  of  iden- 
tification of  self  with  others  and  their  feelings.  I  have 
therefore  placed  it  among  the  social  emotions.  It  is  by 
this  chord  that  the  Actor,  the  Orator,  and  the  Poet  are 
able  to  set  an  assembly  or  community  to  a  unison  of 
feeling  and  of  action. 

4'^.  Firmness  is  the  organ  to  which  concentration  of 
mind,  or  of  continuous  trains  of  thought,  really  belongs. 
Firmness  implies  fixedness  of  i7itenf,  or  of  design^  so 
that  he  who  has  this  feeling  will,  if  his  intellect  is  once 
attracted  by  any  question,  pursue  it  to  the  end. 

5'^.  Sublimity  was  I  believe  discovered  by  Fowler 
&  "Wells.  I  have  placed  it  among  the  Artistic  Organs, 
as  it  seems  closely  allied  to  the  unawed  advance  towards 


122  HUMANICS. 

unlimited  perfection,  evinced  b}^  the  inventors  and 
progressive  men  of  the  age.  It  is  of  higher  rank  than 
the  mere  constructive  instinct,  which  works  npon  a 
predestined  model ;  for  it  is  free  to  receive  its  impulse 
from  intellect  and  ideality,  which  delight  in  adaptation 
and  beauty. 

But  in  all  these  definitions  of  emotions,  there  is  al- 
ways some  term  or  phrase  implying  some  element  of 
thought  or  option,  which  does  not  and  cannot  belong 
to  them.  The  emotions  cannot  be  considered  as  intel- 
ligent, nor  should  their  definition  convey  a  compound 
notion,  for  if  they  were  either  capable  of  rational  judg- 
ments, or  of  multiple  components,  they  would  not  be 
emotions,  but  modes  of  reflection  and  judgment. 

The  stamp  of  reason  they  acquire  in  man,  is  due 
not  to  any  quality  of  their  own,  but  to  man's  intellec- 
tual nature,  which  not  only  modifies  and  enlightens 
them,  but  soars  above  them,  above  their  animality,  and 
descends  from  the  Spirit  of  God  to  inspire  them. 

The  ideas  man  forms  of  his  emotions,  and  the  names 
he  gives  them  in  consequence  of  these  ideas,  involve 
sensational  impressions  and  intellectual  operations, 
which  constantly  accompany  the  passional  involutions. 
Man's  Firmness,  for  instance,  is  interwoven  witli  the 
judgment,  whether  correctly  or  incorrectly  formed,  of 
what  is  to  be  done  ;  his  Conscientiousness  contains  the 
idea  of  what  ought  to  be  done ;  his  Hope  exists  with 


EMOTION.  12 


o 


an  appreciation  of  probability  or  possibility,  as  well  as 
with  some  desire  ;  liis  Sublimity  is  moved  in  common 
with  the  presence  or  recollection  of  great  force,  and 
the  simultaneous  recollection  that  this  great  force  is 
adapted  to  some  mighty  design  of  God  or  man ;  his 
CoNSTRUCTivENESs  is  associatcd  with  a  capacity  for  the 
processes  of  thought  the  architect  requires,  viz.,  tlie 
computation  of  measure,  proportion,  fitness,  &c.  Thus 
were  it  not  for  the  peculiar  impulse  or  thrill  of  each 
of  these  emotions,  and  for  the  fact  that  we  know  sev- 
eral of  them  to  exist  independently  of  consciousness, 
we  would  be  apt  to  regard  them  as  purely  phenomena 
of  the  intellectual  or  rational  power  in  the  agent. 

It  is  in  man  that  this  adm.ixture  of  the  rational  ele- 
ment with  emotion  is  peculiarly  felt ;  and  therefore  if 
we  were  to  confine  our  attention  to  man  alone,  we  could 
not  hope  to  unravel  the  apparent  confusion  thus  creat- 
ed ;  but  the  instincts  of  the  lower  animals,  those  in- 
stincts which  are  clearly  and  positively  automatic,  ow- 
ing nothing  to  education  or  thought,  have  furnished  us 
with  appreciable  distinctions.  Hence  in  vain  have  phi- 
losophers shown  the  sensational  and  intellectual  charac- 
teristics of  the  human  emotions,  and  have  argued,  with 
Condillac,  that  sense  necessarily  produces  conscious- 
ness, and  that  consciousness  necessarily  produces  thought 
and  emotion ;  the  Phrenologist  turns  and  points  to 
senseless  vitality,  or  to  preordained  instinct  as  his  wit- 
ness. 


124  HUMANICS. 

Still  the  difficulties  of  elementary  nomenclature,  and 
abstract  definition  remain,  preventing  any  clear  demar- 
cation ;  and  it  would  seem  that  man  might  with  this  or 
that  faculty  perform  the  acts  for  which  another  organ 
has  been  given,  or  appears  to  be  destined.  Hence,  for 
instance,  what  need  of  Constructiveness  if  we  have  Or- 
der, Comparison,  Causality,  Ideality,  &c.  But  the  con- 
fusion is  merely  verbal,  turning  more  upon  the  mean- 
ing of  the  name  than  upon  the  essence  of  the  emotion 
itself. 

But,  notwithstanding  this  nominal  indistinctness 
and  verbal  admixture  as  between  one  emotion  and  the 
other  psychological  elements,  there  is  one  clear  and 
well-marked  distinction  to  be  drawn.  It  is  between 
the  selfish  and  the  social  feeling.  One  set  of  emotions 
tend  evidently  to  self  or  egotism  ;  they  are  concentric ; 
but  another  set  tend  to  society  and  man  in  general ; 
they  are  expansive  and  disinterested.  On  the  one  side 
we  may  place  all  those  sentiments  having  communion 
with  Humanity  and  God,  while  on  the  other,  we  may 
range  the  propensities  peculiarly  animal  and  vital. 

This  gives  us  at  once  the  grand  distinction  which 
pervades  the  philosophy  of  Jesus,  and  which  constitutes 
the  ethics  of  the  New  Testament. 

Thus  is  our  attention  called  to  the 


EMOTION.  125 


JESUIC   PHILOSOPHY    OF    EMOTION, 

in  relation  to  wliicli  I  will  now  proceed  to  give  my 
views. 

Many,  before  reading  this  Study,  would  like  to  know 
what  sect  the  author  belongs  to ;  but  neither  this  pre- 
face nor  the  book  itself  will  gratify  their  curiosity  in 
this  respect.  The  disclosure  is  refrained  from  simply 
because  it  would  be  an  idle  thing  in  a  work  which  does 
not  propose  to  consider  the  character  and  teachings  of 
Jesus-  in  a  religious  or  theological  point  of  view.  It 
is  only  of  the  man  and  his  philosophy  that  the  follow^- 
ing  pages  are  written. 

Of  Jesus,  the  Christ,  there  are  apostles  who  have 
promulgated  the  revelation,  martyrs  who  have  perished 
in  the  name,  priests  who  have  preached  the  dogmas, 
worshippers  who  have  professed  the  faith,  and  theo- 
logians who,  in  thousands  of  volumes,  have  expounded 
the  word ;  but  of  Jesus,  the  man  as  distinguishable  from 
God,  few  have  separately  treated. 

And  may  we  not  without  irreverence  consider  him 
in  this  view  ?  Is  it  not  taught  that  he  was  both  man 
and  God — that  he  had  a  true  human  body — that  he  ate, 
drank,  walked,  worked,  and  grew  weary — that  he 
groaned,  bled,  and  died  on  the  cross — that  he  assumed 
our  whole  nature,  soul  as  well  as  body — that  lie  was 
capable  of  human  feelings,  such  as  amazement,  grief, 


126  HUMANICS. 

joy,  (fee. — that  his  human  nature  must  not  be  con- 
founded with  his  divine — that  though  there  is  a  union 
of  natures  in  Christ,  tliere  is  not  a  mixture  or  confusion 
of  them  or  of  their  properties — that  his  humanity  is  not 
changed  into  his  deity,  nor  his  deity  into  his  humanity ; 
but  that  the  two  natures  are  distinct  in  one  person  ? 

If,  on  the  one  liand,  the  Unitarians  have  been  con- 
demned for  doubting  tlie  divinity  of  Jesus,  on  the  other 
Marcion,  Apelles,  Yalentinius  and  many  others  were 
declared  heretics  for  denying  his  humanity. 

It  is  tlierefore  without  the  fear  of  incurring  the 
blame  of  any  Christian  that,  eliminating  every  theo- 
logical view,  and  considering  the  ethics  promulgated 
by  Jesus  and  his  apostles  in  a  purely  rational  aspect,  I 
shall  endeavor  to  expound  and  commend  his  law  as  a 
systematic  philosophy.  I  hope  to  show  that,  even 
without  the  sanction  of  divine  authority,  and  when 
measured  by  right  reason  alone,  this  system  is  logically 
and  practically  the  true  one,  and  the  only  one  suited 
to  the  nature  of  man  as  a  social  creature. 

In  doing  so,  I  shall  not,  I  believe,  find  it  necessary 
(as  do  the  most  approved  authors,  who  nevertheless 
are  considered  as  good  Christians)  to  tamper  with,  pal- 
liate, or  evade  any  of  the  moral  precepts  of  Jesus,  so 
as  to  pander  to  the  exigencies  of  selfishness  or  vanitj^,  or 
to  any  of  those  punitive  feelings  which  influence  the 
prevailing  ideas  of  Justice  and  Right.  Unfortunately 
this  is  the  fashionable  course  ;  and  in  the  most  popular 
works   on   ethics  we  still   find   Brotherly-Love   hewn 


EMOTION.  127 

square  with  the  "four  cardinal  virtues"  of  the  Greek 
and  Roman  moralists.  These  I  think  should  be  dis- 
carded as  insufficient  and  as  leading  man  astray.  I 
accept  the  neio  law  in  its  broad  and  absolute  meaning ; 
and  it  is  in  this  uncompromising  sense  that  I  sliall 
maintain  it  to  be  the  true  and  perfect  standard  of  hu- 
man action. 

From  a  perusal  of  the  works  of  scientific  thinkers 
of  modern  times,  it  would  appear  as  if  the  majority  of 
them  had  taken  it  for  granted  that  Jesus  has  not  dis- 
closed the  innate  moral  criterion,  but  has  left  it  to  them 
to  find  and  proclaim  the  natural  stand-point  of  morals, 
law,  and  politics. 

In  this,  I  think,  they  have  been  mistaken.  By  the 
rules  of  action  prescribed  and  exemplified  in  the  E^ew 
Testament,  by  the  enunciation  oi  ihQ  principle  or  basis 
of  these  rules,  and  by  the  reasons  given  to  fortify  them, 
we  are  furnished  with  a  complete  system  far  better  than 
any  ever  formed  by  the  philosophers  of  ancient  times, 
— a  system  containing  within  itself  'psychologically^  the 
essence,  and  logically^  the  rationale  of  the  moral  law; 
while  the  whole  is  practically  illustrated  by  the  sublime 
and  beautiful  acts  of  the  author  and  his  apostles. 

But  the  scientific  moralists  were  far  from  perceiving 
this.  They  have  continued  to  explore  the  world  of 
mind  and  action  to  find  some  7\ev:)  theory,  some  hither- 
to unknown  resting-place  for  the  olive-bearing  bird  of 
true  virtue.      They  all,  no  doubt,  desired  the  moral 


128  HUMANICS. 

perfection  of  man,  but  the  wish  for  the  glory  of  discov- 
ering the  test  principle  and  focal  point  of  ethics,  and 
social  economy,  had  certainly  much  force  in  deter- 
mining the  course  of  many  of  them,  and  prevented 
them  from  seeing — 1°,  that  the  precious  jewel  had  been 
found — 2°,  that  they  were  not  the  finders. 

I  regard  many  of  the  w^orks  of  these  philosophers  as 
serving  to  exhibit  the  miserable  aberrations  and  in- 
genious shifts  of  which  the  human  mind  is  capable 
when  seeking  to  reconcile  the  animal  and  selfish  de- 
velopment of  the  passions  with  the  dictates  of  reason 
and  the  true  instincts  of  nature.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  efforts  of  many  writers  to  disclose  a  pure  criterion 
is  of  itself  sufficient  to  show  the  existence  of  an  inherent 
impulse  in  man  which  prepares  him  for  love  and  as- 
pires to  truth  ;  but  they  have  failed,  in  a  greater  or  a 
less  degree,  to  attain  the  goal  of  these  impulses  and 
aspirations. 

The  ancients  in  their  failure,  being  ignorant  of  the 
Jesuic  doctrine'are  entitled  to  our  indulgence  ;  but  the 
moderns,  though  often  displaying  laudable  motives  and 
aims,  are  less  excusable  ;  for  they  had  the  benefit  of  the 
Jesuic  record,  and  )^et  disregarded  it  to  follow  the 
Greek  and  Roman  models.  Thus,  in  lands  professedly 
Christian,  where  the  Jesuic  record  is  held  as  divine  and 
as  containing  the  revelations  of  God  in  theology  and 
morals,  we  see  men  profoundly  learned,  who  (thougli 
seeking  for  the  pivotal  truth)  have  hardly  noticed  the 
'hook  which  was  before  them,  and  which  contained  the 


EMOTION.  129 

trutli  thej  desired,  written  in  blazing  characters.  They 
ransacked  the  mazes  of  metaphysics,  and  racked  their 
brains  with  cunning  and  abstruse  speculations  to  solve 
the  problem  which  had  been  worked  out,  centuries  be- 
fore, by  him  whom  they  were  wont  to  call  their  God. 
Strange  to  say,  this  book  and  revelation,  which  they 
all  had  in  their  hands,  remained,  with  respect  to  the 
fundamental  jyi'inciple  it  contains,  sealed  to  their  in- 
tellectual eye ;  and  though  they  read  it  over  and  over 
again,  they  found  but  little  in  it  besides  texts  for  theo- 
logical controversy.  Having  eyes  they  did  not  see, 
having  ears  they  did  not  hear.  True,  they  have  pro- 
fessed a  profound  respect  for  the  book,  and  ostensibly 
bowed  to  its  authority ;  but  it  was  only  to  betray  or 
forget  it  with  impunity ;  and  they  passed  it  over  with 
scarcely  a  thought  (not  dreaming  it  contained  the  treas- 
ure they  were  seeking)  to  follow  after  their  own  theories 
or  those  of  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Zeno,  Epictetus, 
&c. 

It  must,  however,  be  admitted,  that  approaches  have 
been  made  towards  the  true  criterion ;  and  that  of  late 
years  the  philosophers  are  beginning  to  see  that  the 
New  Testament  is  the  way  to  true  ethical  knowledge, 
^^ subjectively'^''  a^  well  as  ''objectively.''''  At  present, 
they  are  not  far  from  converting  their  favorite  terms 
of  "Suggestion,"  "Sympathy,"  "Conscience,"  and 
"  Moral  Sense,"  into  the  more  primary  and  definable 
ones  of — 1°,  "  Love  to  God,"  and  S*",  Social  Feeling^  or 

"  Love  of  Man."     All  that  is  now  necessary  is,  to  show 
9 


130  HUMANICS. 

tliem  that  these  two  are  the  plain  and  positive  innate 
attributes  of  man.  The  time  is  fast  approaching  when 
no  ethical  works  will  be  esteemed  except  periphrases, 
commentaries,  amplifications,  illustrations,  and  demon- 
strations of  the  Law  of  Love,  as  stated  by  Jesus,  and  as 
exemplified  by  him  eighteen  centuries  ago. 

Lideed,  we  are  already  arrived  at  the  j^oint  when 
we  are  able  to  perceive  with  clearness,  not  only  how 
the  nominalists  and  realists,  the  sensationalists  and 
idealists,  divisionists  and  communists,  the  protectionists 
and  freetraders,  have  demolished  one  another;  but 
also  how  it  is  that  nothing  of  their  several  systems  re- 
mains standing,  except  the  few  pillars  they  had  bor- 
rowed from  the  intellectual  and  moral  temple  of  true 
Christianity.  It  is  curious,  in  looking  through  the 
works  of  the  great  thinkers  of  these  schools,  to  see, 
apart  from  their  verbal  peculiarities,  varied  nomencla- 
tures, and  singularities  of  logical  process,  how  they  in 
substance  agree  together,  how  they  all  tend  in  their 
material  points  of  agreement  to  establish  the  Jesuic 
doctrine,  and  how  the  omission  or  denial  of  some  one 
of  the  ingredients  of  the  Jesuic  philosophy,  or  an  iso- 
lated development  of  only  one  of  its  principles,  has  been 
the  cause  of  all  the  errors  of  which  they  have  convicted 
one  another. 

This  has  been  perceived  by  most  of  the  master  minds 
of  the  present  century,  and  many  of  them  have  already 
pointed  out  and  contributed  to  the  growing  tendency 
towards  Jesuism.  This  book  is  a  humble  tribute  to 
that  tendency. 


EMOTION.  131 

Let  it  not  be  imagined  that  I  confound  religion 
with  ethics.  Yet,  though  not  confounded,  they  should 
never  be  separated.  Ethics  without  religion  is  a  body- 
without  life.  But,  I  insist  upon  it,  a  complete  and 
perfect  system  of  ethics,  properly  so  called,  is  publish- 
ed and  expounded  in  the  ]^ew  Testament. 

Nor  let  it  be  thousrht  that  what  I  call  a  svstem  of 
ethics,  is  merely  a  series  of  precepts  inculcating  certain 
duties,  without  reference  to  any  primary  and  general 
principle.  No.  My  aim  is  to  show  that  the  'New 
Testament  contains  not  only  the  precepts  of  true  virtue, 
law,  and  social  organization ;  but  also  the  repeated 
enunciations  of  the  original  cause,  intellectual  essence, 
prime  motive  or  logical  beginning  from  which  all  the 
rules  it  contains  are  derived,  upon  which  they  depend, 
and  by  which  they  are  proved,  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  existence  of  the  first  great  truth  being  once  made 
evident,  all  the  commandments  follow  as  strictly 
rational  deductions.  Even  an  atheist  who  might  ob- 
stinately choose  to  separate  the  ethical  principles  and 
ordinances  contained  in  the  New  Testament,  from  the 
religious  dogmas  with  which  they  are  interwoven, 
would  find  more  to  satisfy  his  best  feelings  and  his 
reason  than  in  all  the  essays  of  the  sages  of  antiquity. 
Indeed,  the  peculiar  beauties  and  advantages  (as  well 
as  the  progress)  of  modern  philosophy  are  due  to  the 
direct  or  indirect  influence  of  the  lessons  of  Jesus. 
This  is  the  light  which  enabled  Butler  and  his  succes- 
sors to  see  more  clearly  through  the  difficulties  of  their 


132  HUMANICS. 

subject,  and  to  discover  moral  analogies  winch  liad 
been  hidden  for  ages.  As  we  progress,  the  surpassing 
excellences  of  the  Jesuic  system  will,  at  every  step, 
become  more  and  more  evident,  until  their  final  tri- 
umph in  theory  and  practice  be  achieved. 

If  I  can  forward  this  object  in  the  slightest  degree 
I  shall  rejoice. 

The  ethical  system  of  Jesus  may  be  set  forth  in 
consecutive  order,  as  follows : 

Tliat  God  is  our  common  father. 

That,  as  children  of  one  father  in  heaven,  we  are 
brethren. 

That  God  loves  us  all  as  his  children. 

That  God,  by  his  impartial  bounties,  gives  us  the 
example  of  universal  love. 

Tliat,  as  the  children  of  God,  we  should  love  him. 

That,  as  brethren,  we  should  love  one  another. 

That,  by  this  parentage  and  brotherhood,  we  are 
equal  before  God  and  each  other. 

That  God  has  implanted  the  social  feeling  within 
our  nature. 

That,  by  his  will,  we  are  not  only  children  of  our 
father,  but  also  members  of  society. 

That,  as  members  of  society,  we  are  members  of 
one  another. 

That,  as  members  of  the  social  body,  we  are  identi- 
fied in  interest  and  feeling. 

That,  by  this  identity,  whatever  afiects  one  afi'ects 
all,  and  whatever  afi'ects  all  affects  each. 


EMOTION.  133 

Tliat,  as  we  cannot  sever  this  union  of  one  and  all, 
the  love  of  others  should  be  equal  to  the  love  of  self. 

That,  as  each  of  us  is  but  a  fraction  of  society,  mere 
members  of  the  social  body,  there  exists  a  general  hu- 
man solidarit}^. 

TJiat,  as  our  weal  depends  upon  the  common  weal, 
so  therefore  the  welfare  of  society  is  the  paramount 
law. 

That  we  each  possess  an  immortal  soul. 

That,  by  our  immortal  souls  an  eternal  connection 
exists  between  us  and  God. 

That,  by  this  connection,  death  is  powerless  to  sever 
us  from  the  heavenly  family. 

That,  by  the  assurance  of  an  eternal  life  and  broth- 
erhood, all  fear  is  banished. 

That,  by  banishing  fear,  all  self-denial,  self-sacrifice, 
and  even  martyrdom,  may  be  cheerfully  incurred,  to 
serve  the  people. 

That,  by  the  equality  of  self-love  and  social  feeling, 
we  are  free  agents. 

That,  by  free  agency  and  immortality,  we  are  re- 
sponsible beings. 

And  that,  finally,  by  the  power  of  these  great 
truths  of  Faith,  Hope,  and  Love,  the  kingdom  of  God 
will  be  established  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven. 

This  hope  is  the  sanction,  the  cement,  the  vital  force 
of  the  whole  Jesuic  system  ;  for,  without  it,  who  would 
die  for  the  people,  who  would  not  consider  his  own  inter- 
est as  distinct  and  supreme?     Without  hope  in  heaven, 


134  HUMANICS. 

the  individualizing  and  dissolving  influence  of  egotism 
might,  in  spite  of  the  social  feeling,  prevail,  and  ever 
torture  the  bowels  of  society  with  every  disorder. 
Mankind  would  forever  live  like  wild  beasts  chained 
to  each  other,  antagonistic,  yet  linked  together  by  the 
social  bond,  and  each  would  try  by  every  mode  of  force 
and  stratagem,  to  save  himself  from  the  general  fate. 

This  is  a  faint  outline  of  a  few  of  the  main  features 
of  the  Divine  philosophy  of  Jesus,  which  is  summed 
up  in  three  words :  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity,  these 
three,  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  Charity  ;  for  all  the 
law  is  fulfilled  in  one  word  :  thou  shalt  love  thy  neigh- 
bor as  thyself.  The  beginning  and  the  end  of  this  sys- 
tem are  expressed  in  one  line :  He  who  loveth  God 
loveth  his  neighbor  also. 

Jesus  was  the  author,  the  first  promulgator,  the 
founder  of  this  synthesis  of  ideas,  this  arch  of  princi- 
ples, this  harmony  of  ethical  truths,  and  he  gave  it  to 
the  world  as  a  religion^  so  that  when  I  claim  it  for  re- 
ligion, I  merely  assert  a  fact  and  an  undeniable  copy- 
right, an  unquestionable  title. 

But  many  have  not  been  in  the  habit  of  associating 
these  ideas  of  Equality,  Socialization,  Solidarity,  and 
Liberty  with  the  religion  of  Jesus. 

I  know  that  the  moral  and  social  ideas  of  Jesus 
have  been  most  commonl}^  forgotten  in  sectarian  creeds 
and  theological  contests — that  substance  has  been  made 
to  yield  to  form  ;  but  take  the  book  and  read  it  for  the 
lessons  of  divine  and  social  love  it  contains,  and  you 


EMOTION.  135 

will  find  that  the  New  Testament  confirms  on  every 
page  every  word  I  say,  and  nowhere  contradicts  me. 

If  in  the  voluminous  writings  of  Confucius,  of 
Plato,  or  of  any  other  sage,  one  or  two  passages  may 
be  found,  which  resemble  some  of  the  words  of  Jesus, 
be  assured  that  they  are  disconnected  and  loose,  form- 
ing no  part  of  the  structure  which  they  accidentally 
adorn.  In  the  Xew  Testament,  on  the  contrarj^,  these 
principles  are  there  as  the  foundation  of  the  entire  edi- 
fice, as  an  integral  part  of  the  whole,  as  the  key  of 
many  exemplifications,  as  the  spirit  of  the  general  con- 
text. Jesus  was  the  first  to  point  out  the  supreme  val- 
ue, the  all-pervading  truth,  the  infinite  power,  and  the 
intellectual  connection  of  these  principles.  It  may 
well  be  said  of  the  main  precept  of  the  Jesuic  system, 
that  the  stone  which  the  builders  rejected  has  become 
the  head  of  the  corner. 

Jesus  did  not  profess  to  give  existence  to  the  truths 
he  disclosed,  no  more  than  Newton  professed  to  create 
gravitation.  Yet  no  man  who  might  have  previously 
written  or  said  that  an  apple  had  fallen  from  a  tree 
to  the  ground,  could  claim  to  be  the  discoverer  of  at- 
traction. With  no  more  reason  could  any  one  who 
may  have  said — "  do  unto  others  as  you  would  that 
others  should  do  unto  you,"  be  set  up  as  a  rival  of  him 
who  developed  the  source,  reason,  consequences,  and 
connection  of  this  precept,  and  who  gave  it  a  place  in 
a  plan  where  it  shines  harmonious  with  the  rest — a 
jewel  bright — but  not  by  far  the  brightest  among  many 


136  HUMANICS. 

others,  forming  with  it  a  symmetrical  diadem  of  glo- 
rious truth.  Jesus  came  not  to  disturb  the  eternal 
laws  of  heaven  ;  but  he  appeared  in  the  moral  world, 
as  Newton  did  afterwards  in  the  physical,  to  make 
known  the  mystery  which  had  been  hidden  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world. 

The  ancient  sages  spoke  here  and  there  a  detached 
phrase  of  the  divine  law ;  but  they  uttered  it,  as  it 
were,  casually  and  unconsciously,  for  we  see  nowhere 
a  persistence  in  the  train  of  thought.  On  the  contrary, 
they  depart  from  it  instantly,  to  expound  ideas  of  puni- 
tive Justice,  interested  Prudence,  selfish  Temperance, 
and  angry  Fortitude.  In  some  places  they  merely 
crossed  the  path  of  truth — they  did  not  follow  it.  They 
said  just  enough  to  prove  that  the  Jesuic  system  is  not 
an  artificial  one,  but  grows  out  of  the  true  nature  of 
man,  as  endowed  from  the  beginning  by  the  Creator. 
If  all  the  scattered  Christian  sayings  of  the  ancient 
philosophers  were  gathered  together,  and  attributed  to 
a  single  sage,  he  would  remain  but  a  pigmy  alongside 
of  the  giant  Jesus. 

1.  The  Criterion  Proposed. — ^Tlie  majority  of  mor- 
alists whose  wisdom  has  enlightened  the  world,  in 
ancient  and  modern  times,  have  made  researches,  to 
ascertain  the  prime  mover  or  single  fundamental  rule 
of  human  conduct ;  and  each  has  fondly  cherished  a 
belief  in  his  own  success.  Most  of  them  have  respec- 
tively designated  some  feeling  of  the  soul,  some  instinct 


.EMOTION.  137 

of  nature,  or  some  universal  maxim,  as  the  main  insti- 
gator or  true  guide  of  action.  The  primary  sentiment, 
or  synthetic  precept  thus  found,  is  given  in  their  va- 
rious theories,  as  the  touchstone  or  criterion  by  which 
the  acts  of  men  are  to  be  tested.  Thus  Egotism,  Sym- 
pathy, Conscience,  Interest,  Utility,  Experience,  Honor, 
Vanity,  Ambition,  Reason,  Justice,  Pleasure  and  Pain, 
Use  and  Abuse  of  faculties,  have  in  turn  been  made 
the  supreme  law  of  man. 

The  unanimity  with  which  philosophers  ol  note 
have  sought  for  a  great  pivotal  truth,  or  some  general 
principle  of  right  and  wrong,  shows  of  what  impor- 
tance the  discovery  of  such  a  truth  or  principle  would 
be. 

Such  a  criterion  once  established,  all  the  difficulties 
of  the  science  of  ethics  would  at  once  disappear ;  for 
then  we  would  have  a  common  standard,  by  which 
every  action  might  be  immediately  weighed  and  meas- 
ured, an  axiom  from  ^vhich  all  minor  precepts  would 
clearl}^  and  logicall}^  flow. 

Indeed,  a  just  conception  of  the  infinite  wisdom  and 
mercy  of  God,  should,  of  itself,  give  the  assurance  that 
he  has  not  left  us  without  an  inward  capacity  in  har- 
mony with  his  eternal  justice. 

If  such  a  master-law  or  caj)acity  really  exists,  it  is 
to  be  presumed  that  Jesus,  the  Christ  God,  must  have 
revealed  it,  or  that  Jesus,  the  man  and  philosopher, 
must  have  sought  to  discover  it. 

Yiewing  him  in  his  human  aspect,  tliat  of  a  virtu- 


138  HUMANICS. 

ous  and  profound  philosopher,  whose  love  of  mankind 
knew  no  bounds,  ^ve  must  remain  satisfied,  from  the 
fact  of  that  boundless  love  itself. 

That  he  must  have  endeavored  to  do  w^hat  others 
have  striven  to  accomplish  :  to  unveil  the  mysteries  of 
the  human  heart,  and  to  find  within  the  mind  a  genial 
soil  in  which  the  tree  of  life  might  grow. 

That  he  sought  to  base  his  ethics  upon  the  nature 
of  man,  as  organized  by  the  Creator. 

That  he  did  not,  wilfully,  when  God  had  given  us 
irradicable  impulses  to  go  in  one  direction,  instruct  us 
to  proceed  in  another. 

That  he  did  not,  wilfully,  subject  us  to  a  rule  which, 
from  its  being  contrary  to  the  laws  of  our  mental  and 
physical  organism,  is  impossible. 

This  prompts  us  at  once  to  inquire  whether  the 
philosophy  of  Jesus,  as  found  in  the  New  Testament, 
does  not  disclose  some  all-pervading  element,  inherent 
in  man,  and  designed  by  the  Deity  to  govern  the  moral 
and  social  world  ? 

2.  The  Flesh  and  the  Spikit. — We  find,  in  review- 
ing the  sayings  of  Jesus  and  his  apostles,  a  clear  line 
of  demarcation  drawn  between — the  Flesh  and  the 
Spirit — the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  and  the  triumph  of  the 
Spirit — things  carnal,  and  things  spiritual — the  old  man, 
and  the  new  man — the  works  and  fruits  of  the  flesh, 
and  the  works  and  fruits  of  the  Spirit — fleshly  wis- 
dom, and  the  grace  of  God — uncleanliness  and  purity 


EMOTION.  139 

— things  of  God,  and  things  of  Men — the  natural  man, 
and.  the  spiritual  man — the  works  of  the  Devil,  of  Sa- 
tan, of  the  world,  of  tlie  body,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  works  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  Grace,  and  of  the 
kinc^dom  of  God  on  the  other. 

This  distinction  is  so  often  repeated,  and  so  earnestly 
insisted  on  in  hundreds  of  texts,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  regard  it  otherwise  than  as  a  main  and  leading  idea 
of  the  Jesuic  philosophy. 

In  the  very  outset  of  the  gospels  John  the  Bap- 
tist, the  precursor  of  Jesus,  announces  him  as  one  who 
will  baptize  with  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  immediately 
afterwards,  Jesus,  led  by  the  Spirit  (Mat.  iv.  1)  and 
ministered  to  by  the  angels,  (Mark  i.  14,)  and  being  full 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  (Luke  iv.  1)  is  tempted  of  Satan, 
and  triumphs  over  him. 

In  many  parts  of  the  four  gospels  we  find  the  idea 
clearly  conveyed,  that  Jesus,  throughout  his  whole  ca- 
reer, from  the  event  of  his  baptism  through  John,  down 
to  his  crucifixion  and  death,  continued  to  be  filled  with 
this  Holy  Spirit,  and  to  resist  the  Devil  and  his  lusts. 

On  one  side  he  places  the  soul  and  on  the  other  the 
hody^  and  counsels  his  disciples  to  mutilate  the  mem- 
bers rather  than  to  permit  their  lusts  to  overcome  the 
spirit.     (Mat.  v.  30,  xviii.  9 ;  Mark  ix.  23.) 

In  the  same  discourse  he  places  God  and  Mammon 
in  juxtaposition,  and  warns  us  that  they  are  irrecon- 
cilable, and  that  we  cannot  serve  them  both.  (Mat. 
vi.  24.) 


140  HUMANICS. 

And  then  when  on  his  way  to  meet  his  death  he 
again,  in  his  rebuke  to  Peter,  gives  an  emphatic  sanc- 
tion to  this  distinction :  He  turned,  and  said  unto 
Peter,  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan ;  thou  art  an  offence 
unto  me ;  for  thou  savorest  not  of  the  things  that 
he  of  God^  but  of  those  that  be  of  Men''  (Mat.  xvi. 
23;  Mark  viii.  33.)  Jesus  here  clearly  designed  to 
distinguish  between  the  spiritual  and  sensual  feeling ; 
for  we  shortly  afterwards  iind  him  enjoining  Peter 
thus:  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  tempta- 
tion, for  the  sjpirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is 
weak.     (Mat.  xxiv.  41 ;  Mark  xiv.  38.) 

The  exordium  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  contains  a 
plain  enunciation  of  this  division.  He  describes  the 
sons  of  God  as  those  who  believe  in  the  name  of  Jesus, 
as  those  who  "  were  born  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will 
of  the  fleshy  nor  of  the  will  of  onan,  but  of  God." 
(John  i.  13.)  A  little  further  he  says,  (John  iii.  6 :) 
That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  fleshy  and  that 
which  is  born  of  the  Sjnrit  is  spirit.  These  are 
recorded  as  the  words  of  Jesus  himself,  in  his  dialogue 
with  JS'icodemus,  about  the  necessity  of  being  born 
again ;  and  he  repeats  on  another  occasion :  It  is  the 
spirit  that  quickeneth — the  flesh  profiteth  nothing. 
(John  vi.  63.) 

The  importance  of  this  distinction,  as  taught  by 
Jesus,  was  strongly  felt  by  his  apostles ;  for  we  find 
them  constantly  urging  it  in  all  their  epistles,  and  in  a 
variety  of  forms.     If  it  were  necessary,  a  multitude  of 


EMOTION.  141 

texts  could  be  quoted  in  confirmation  of  this  statement ; 
but  there  is  no  reader  of  the  Bible  who  has  not  learned 
to  distinguish  the  fleshy  its  lusts  and  its  works,  as  the 
source  of  sin,  from  the  spirit^  its  holiness  and  fruits,  as 
the  lidit  of  the  kino-dom  of  God.  Yet,  I  cannot  refrain 
from  referring  to  a  few  passages  forcibly  conveying  the 
idea  I  seek  to  inculcate,  so  material  do  I  consider  it  to 
be  for  arriving  at  a  clear  understanding  of  the  philos- 
ophy we  are  studying ;  and  so  necessary  for  obtaining 
a  knowledge  of  the  criterioii  that  philosophy  adopts  as 
its  pivot. 

Rom  vii.  IS  :  I  know  that  in  me  (that  is  in  my 
fiesK)  dwelleth  no  good  thing — 22,  for  I  delight 
in  the  law  of  God,  after  the  inward  man.  25,  So 
then  with  the  mind  (spirit)  I  myself  serve  the  law 
of  God,  but  with  W\q  flesh  the  law  of  sin. 

Rom.  viii.  1 :  There  is  therefore  no  condemnation 
to  them  which  are  in  Jesus  Christ,  who  walk  not 
after  the  fleshy  but  after  the  Spirit.  6,  For  to  be  car- 
nally minded  is  death,  but  to  be  spiritually  minded  is 
life  and  peace.  13,  For  if  ye  live  after  the^^sA  ye  shall 
die  ;  but  if  ye  through  the  Spirit  do  mortify  the  deeds 
of  the  body  ye  shall  live. 

Rom.  viii.  6  :  To  be  carnally  minded  is  death  ;  but 
to  be  spiritually  minded  is  life  and  peace. 

Rom.  viii.  9  :  But  ye  are  not  in  the  flesh  but  in 
the  Spirit. 

Gal.  vi.  7,  8  :  Be  not  deceived  ;  God  is  not  mock- 
ed ;  for  whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also 


142  HUMANICS. 

reap.  For  lie  that  soweth  to  \\\^  fleshy  shall  of  the  flesh 
reap  corruption  ;  but  he  tliat  sowetli  to  the  Sjyirit^  shall 
of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting. 

Gal.  V.  16  :  This  I  say  then,  Walk  in  the  Spirit 
and  ye  shall  not  fulfil  the  lusts  of  the  flesh.  17,  For 
the  flesh  lusteth  against  the  Spirit,  and  the  Spirit 
against  the  flesh ;  and  these  are  contrary  one  to  the 
other. 

Eph.  iv.  22,  23:  That  ye  put  off  the  old  man 
which  is  corrupt  according  to  the  deceitful  lusts  j  and 
be  renewed  in  the  spii'it  of  your  mind. 

Philippians  iii.  3 :  For  we  are  the  circumcision 
which  worship  God  in  the  8j)irit,  and  rejoice  in  Christ 
Jesus,  and  have  no  confidence  in  the  flesh. 

Col.  iii.  9,  10  :  Seeing  you  have  put  off  the  old 
Tnan^  and  his  deeds ;  and  have  put  on  the  oiew  man. 

1  Pet.  ii.  1 :  Dearly  beloved,  I  beseech  you,  as 
strangers  and  pilgrims,  abstain  from  fleshly  lusts 
which  w^ar  against  the  soul. 

1  Pet.  iv.  6  :  For  this  cause  was  the  gospel 
preached  also  unto  them  that  are  dead  that  they  might 
be  judged  according  to  men  in  the  flesh,  but  live  ac- 
cording to  God,  in  the  Spirit. 

2  Pet.  i.  4  :  AYhereby  are  given  unto  us  exceed- 
ing great  promises ;  that  by  these  you  might  be  par- 
takers of  the  divine  nature,  having  escaped  the  corrup- 
tion that  is  in  the  world  through  htst. 

1  John  ii.  16  :  For  whatsoever  is  horn  of  God 
overcometh  the  world. 


EMOTION.  143 

Jude  19  :  These  be  tliej  who  separate  them- 
selves, sensual^  having  not  the  Spirit. 

In  selecting  these  texts,  I  have  taken  only  a  few  of 
those  in  which  the  flesh  and  the  spirit  are  put  in  oppo- 
sition to  each  other,  in  the  same  passage,  as  they  an- 
swer my  present  j)nrpose  with  more  directness ;  but, 
throughout  the  ]^ew  Testament,  THE  FLESH,  its 
works,  its  fruits,  now  under  its  name  of  the  flesh,  but 
then  as  frequently  under  the  name  of  the  old  man,  the 
natural  man,  the  body,  the  world,  things  sensual,  things 
carnal,  Satan,  the  devil,  lust,  filth,  or  impurity — is  rep- 
resented as  the  great  enemy  against  which  Jesus  and 
his  apostles  contended ;  and  of  which  they  sought  to 
free  mankind  ;  and  in  place  of  which  they  offered  the 
Spirit — the  Holy  Spirit — the  Holy  Ghost,  and  through 
it  Grace  and  Faith  witli  all  their  fruits.  (Titus  iii.  5  ; 
1  Cor.  xii.  3.) 

"What  I  have  thus  set  forth  is  no  doubt  familiar  to 
all  theologians,  and  is,  I  believe,  admitted  by  every 
one  of  them  ;  yet  I  find  in  these  premises  the  neglected 
corner-stone  of  the  only  true  system  of  temporal  ethics, 
and  an  infallible  and  all-embracing  rule  of  human  ac- 
tion. 

Flesh  and  Spirit !  "What  definite  idea,  in  a  natural 
sense,  should  we  attach  to  these  w^ords  ? 

Jesus  gives  us  a  plain,  certain,  and  beautiful  rule 
by  which  the  meaning  of  these  two  terms  can  be  prac- 
tically ascertained : 

Ye   shall  know  them  by  their  fruits.      Do   men 


144  HUMANICS. 

gather  grapes  of  tliorns,  or  figs  of  thistles?  Even  so 
every  good  tree  bringeth  forth  good  fruit ;  but  a  cor- 
rupt tree  bringeth  forth  evil  fruit.  A  good  tree  cannot 
bring  forth  evil  fruit,  neither  can  a  corrupt  tree  bring 
forth  good  fruit.  (Mat.  vii.  16,  IT,  18 ;  Luke  vi.  43, 
44 ;  et  als.) 

Applying  this  rule  to  the  subject  before  us  we  find, 
on  the  one  side,  tliat — 

The  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  Love,  Joy,  Peace,  Long- 
Suffering,  Gentleness,  Faith,  Meekness,  Temperance. 
(Gal.  V.  22.) 

And  on  the  other  side,  that — 

The  works  of  the  flesh  are  manifest :  which  are 
these :  adultery,  fornication,  uncleanliness,  lascivious- 
ness,  idolatry,  witchcraft,  hatred,  variance,  emulations, 
wrath,  strife,  sedition,  heresies,  envyings,  murder, 
drunkenness,  re  veilings,  and  such  like.     (Gal.  v.  19.) 

Is  it  not  evident,  then,  that  these  two  are  the  source 
of  moral  good  and  evil,  the  opposite  generators  of  vir- 
tue and  of  vice  ? 

]S"or  is  this  distinction  arbitrary.  Jesus  did  not  tell 
us  to  control  the  flesh  and  follow  the  spirit  without  any 
reference  to  the  instincts  of  our  nature.  He  had,  as  I 
will  endeavor  to  demonstrate,  a  deeper  and  wider  per- 
ception of  the  constitution  of  man  than  any  other 
teacher  of  morals,  ancient  or  modern ;  and  he  has 
given  us  the  only  law  truly  adapted  to  that  constitu- 
tion. 

An  investigation  of  the  subject  will  satisfy  every  im- 


EMOTION.  145 

partial  mind,  that  Jesus  regarded  man  as  capable  of 
two  feelings  :  one  the  selfish  feeling^  which  corresponds 
with  the  flesh ;  the  other  the  social  feeling^  which  is 
congenial  to  the  spirit,  and  includes  tlie  love  of  God. 
(2  John  Y.  2.) 

The  selfish  feeling  is  that  which  confines  "  love  "  to 
tlie  individual ;  and  concedes  nought  to  fellow-crea- 
tures but  what  is  necessary  to  obtain  a  requital,  ser- 
viceable to  interest  or  pleasure. 

The  social  feeling  is  that  which  extends  "  love  "  to 
all  mankind  ;  and  concedes  nought  to  the  individual 
but  what  men  enjoy  as  "  members  one  of  another." 
(Eom.  xii.  5 ;  Eph.  iv.  25.) 

These  are  the  extremes  :  there  are  many  grades  of 
approach  between  the  two ;  many  mixtures,  in  difier- 
ent  proportions  of  both. 

Hereafter  we  will  see  to  what  extent  Jesus  admits 
any  of  these  grades  or  admixtures. 

Certain  it  is,  however,  that  his  moral  criterion  is  all 
in  this  distinction  between  flesh  and  spirit ;  and  that 
his  rule  of  moral  perfection,  in  a  temporal  sense^  pre- 
scribes the  full  development  of  the  social  feeling  with 
all  its  consequences. 

lie  has  taught  us  the  proper  method  of  developing 
and  cultivating  it :  1st,  by  clearly  defining  the  two  op- 
posites,  so  that  the  line  of  demarcation  cannot  be  mis- 
taken ;  2d,  by  teaching  wherein  the  works  of  the  flesh 
or  selfish  feeling  are  to  be  avoided  ;  and  3d,  by  show- 
ing us  how  to  act  according  to  the  spirit,  and  how 
10 


146  HUMANICS. 

to  reap  the  sweet  fruits  the  social  feeliog  doth  pro- 
duce. 

3.  The  Selfish  Feeling. — In  the  Jesuic  philosophy 
tlie  Selfish  Feeling  or  the  Flesh  is  personified  by  Satan 
or  the  Devil.  All  the  terms  which  might  be  applied 
to  one  glorying  in  all  the  sins  that  flesh  is  heir  to  are 
applied  to  him  by  Jesus  and  the  sacred  writers.  Every 
crime  or  vice  which  the  most  unbridled  egotism  might 
suggest  is  imputed  to  him.  All  the  offences  committed 
by  mankind  are  attributed  to  his  influence.  He  is 
called  a  murderer  and  liar,  John  viii.  4i  ;  the  God  of 
the  world,  2  Cor.  iv.  4 ;  the  ruler  of  darkness,  Eph.  vi. 
12 ;  the  adversary,  1  Pet.  v.  8 ;  the  accuser  of  the 
brethren,  1  Pet.  ix.  10  ;  a  sower  of  tares.  Mat.  xiii. 
25,  28  ;  a  wolf,  John  x.  12  ;  a  roaring  lion,  1  Pet.  v. 
8  ;  the  tempter,  1  Thes.  iii.  5,  &c.,  &c.  He  is  de- 
scribed as  being  presumptuous,  Mat.  iv.  5,  6  ;  proud, 
1  Tim.  iii.  6  ;  wicked,  1  John  ii.  13  ;  subtile,  2  Cor. 
xi.  3  ;  deceitful,  2  Cor.  xi.  14,  Eph.  vi.  11 ;  fierce 
and  cruel,  Luke  viii.  29,  Luke  ix.  39,  42,  1  Pet. 
V.  8  ;  and  cowardly,  Jas.  iv.  7.  AYe  are  told  that  he 
was  the  author  of  the  fall,  2  Cor.  xi.  3 ;  that  he  tempt- 
ed Jesus,  Mat.  iv.  3-10 ;  that  he  opposes  God's  works, 
1  Thes.  ii.  18  ;  that  he  hinders  the  gospel,  2  Cor.  iv. 
4 ;  that  the  wricked  are  his  children.  Mat.  xiii.  38, 
Acts  xiii.  10,  1  John  iii.  10 ;  that  they  turn  aside 
after  him,  1  Tim.  v.  15 ;  that  they  do  his  lusts,  John 
viii.  44 ;    and  that  he  blinds,  deceives,  and  ensnares 


EMOTION.  147 

them,  2  Cor.  iv.  4,  Eev.  xx.  7,  8,  1  Tim.  iii.  7,  2  Tim. 
ii.  26.  The  warnings  against  his  power  and  cunning 
are  so  numerous,  and  the  necessity  of  resisting  him,  of 
being  armed  against  him,  and  of  being  watchful  to 
avoid  his  temptations  and  snares,  is  so  often  enjoined, 
that  we  can  hardly  open  tlie  book  without  finding  a 
text  on  the  subject. 

All  these  epithets  are  applied,  all  these  accusations 
are  brought,  all  these  warnings  are  uttered,  all  tliese 
sins  are  denounced  against  the  flesh  in  texts  so  similar, 
and  forms  so  concordant  with  those  relating  to  the 
devil,  that  no  doubt  can  remain  that  the  unsubdued  flesh 
may  be  regarded  as  the  embodiment  of  Satan.  Rom. 
vii.  28  ;  Jas.  iii.  15  ;  Eph.  ii.  2,  3  ;  Eom.  i.  21-32  ; 
Gal.  V.  19-21  ;  Eph.  iv.  27 ;  2  Pet.  ii.  4,  10  ;  2  Tim. 
iii.  2;  1  John  iii.  8,  9;  John  viii.  44 ;  Heb.  ii.  14; 
1  John  iv.  1,  3. 

Indeed,  the  Jesuic  philosophy  under  this  head  not 
only  comprises  Satan,  but,  secondly,  the  animal  hody 
with  its  lusts  ;  and  thirdly,  the  mental  spirit  of  rebel- 
lion and  depravity  w^hich  is  opposed  to  love. 

That  the  animal  body  is  viewed  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment as  opposed  to  the  Spirit  of  God,  is  evident  from 
the  texts  which  declare  :  that  the  law  of  sin  is  in  our 
members^  Rom.  vii.  23  ;  that  it  is  necessary  to  subdue 
and  mortify  the  loclij^  1  Cor.  ix.  27,  Col.  iii.  5  ;  that 
the  God  of  the  wicked  is  their  own  helly,  Rom.  xvi. 
17  ;  that  the  good  have  crucified  the  flesh  and  its  lusts, 
Gal.  V.  24  ;  that  the  works  of  the  flesh  are  fornication, 


148  HUMANICS. 

lasciviousnesSj  and  other  such  exclusively  physical 
deeds,  Gal.  v.  19  ;  that  the  sinful  are  as  natural  hrute 
leasts^  2  Pet.  ii.  12  ;  and  that  the  natural  man  leceW- 
eth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  2  Cor.  ii.  14. 

That  the  selfish  feeling  (considered  as  mind)  also  be- 
longs to  this  category,  appears  from  the  denunciation  of 
the  carnal  mind,  Kom.  viii.  7  ;  from  the  internal  works 
of  the  flesh,  such  as  envy,  malice,  anger,  pride,  liatred 
of  God,  &c.,  Eom.  i.  21 ;  from  tlie  necessity  of  cleans- 
ing the  mind  of  filthiness,  2  Cor.  vii.  1 ;  from  the  ex- 
istence of  a  sj)h'it  of  disobedience,  Eph.  ii.  2,  3  ;  and 
from  the  declaration  that  there  are  sjnrits  which  are 
not  of  God,  1  John  iv.  3  ;  minds  subject  to  the  flesh. 

Thus,  a  sort  of  infernal  trinity  is  disclosed :  1,  Sa- 
tan, the  God  of  the  world ;  2,  the  sensual  spirit ;  and 
3,  the  earthly  body ;  and  it  is  of  this  trinity  St. 
James  seems  to  speak,  when  condemning  the  wisdom 
of  the  vicious,  he  says,  iii.  15  :  This  wisdom  descend- 
eth  not  from  above,  but  is  (1)  earthly,  (2)  sensual,  (3) 
devilish. 

Hence,  as  if  no  part  of  the  comparison  sliould  be 
omitted,  we  are  taught  that  there  is  a  natural  body  and 
a  spiritual  body,  1  Cor.  xv.  M,  one  which  is  earthly  and 
corrupt,  and  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but 
the  other  which  is  changed,  redeemed,  and  is  heavenly, 
(ibid.  35  to  53  ;  Eom.  viii.  23.)  Of  those  liow  hold 
the  one,  and  live  after  the  flesh,  Satan  is  the  father: 
and  of  those  who  inherit  the  other,  God  is  the  father. 

In  this  the  children  of  God  are  manifest,  and  tlie 


EMOTION.  149 

children  of  the  Devil.  1  John  iii.  10.  That  is,  They 
which  are  the  children  of  the  fleshy  these  are  not  the 
children  fcf  God.     Rom.  ix.  8. 

4.  TuE  Social  Feeling. — No  man — and  in  calling 
Jesus  a  man,  I  follow  the  example  of  St.  John,  xi.  50, 
and  of  St.  Paul,  1  Cor.  xv.  21 ;  Rom.  vi.  15 ;  Ileb.  x. 
12 — no  man  ever  displayed  a  love  for  his  fellow- crea- 
tures equal  to  that  w^hich  Jesus  has  shown.  During 
his  life  all  his  thoughts,  and  words,  and  acts,  were  for 
their  happiness.  Though  "  he  was  rich,"  he  stripped 
himself  of  every  thing  for  their  sakes,  (2  Cor.  viii.  9 ;) 
though  he  could  have  enjoyed  luxury  and  power,  he 
rejected  them,  and  became  a  houseless  wanderer,  in 
order  to  scatter  the  seed  of  his  word  throughout  the 
land  ;  though  he  was  learned,  he  humbled  himself  with 
the  ignorant,  that  he  might  impart  his  wisdom  ;  though 
he  was  ])ure,  he  mingled  with  the  corrupt,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  reforming  them  ;  though  his  fellow-men  re- 
jected and  wronged  him,  he  clung  to  them  with  una- 
bated affection,  and  with  untiring  zeal  he  continued  to 
travel  from  place  to  place,  relieving  physical  infirmi- 
ties, and  curing  moral  ills — having  incessantly  before 
him  the  single  great  object  of  his  mission,  which  em- 
braced the  good  of  all  men  :  no  self-denial,  no  danger, 
no  labor  was  too  great  to  check  his  courage  and  devot- 
edness ;  and  finally,  persecution  and  malice  having 
brought  him  to  the  cross,  "  he  died  for  tlie  people," 
was  a  voluntary  martyr;  and,  with  his  last  breath. 


150  HUMANICS. 

(still  tenacious  in  liis  love  even  of  his  murderers,)  he 
uttered  the  sublime  summary  of  all  he  felt  for  us : 
"  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do." 

To  prove  that  in  these  acts  of  love  and  devotedness, 
Jesus  offered  himself  as  an  example  to  be  imitated,  and 
that  he  expects  of  every  man  the  same  intense  love  of 
humanity,  and  the  same  unmeasured  acts  of  charity, 
would  be  to  quote  the  New  Testament  from  beginning 
to  end.  But  perhaps  the  best  evidence  on  this  point  is 
the  declaration  that  Jesus  took  upon  himself  the  nature 
of  flesh  and  blood,  "  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities, 
and  was  tempted  like  as  we  are,"  (Heb.  iv.  15  ;)  thus  it  is 
shown  that  he  evidently  intended  practically  to  demon- 
strate it  to  be  possible  for  men  in  general  to  feel  and 
act  as  he  did. 

Indeed,  the  ethics  of  Jesus  are  not  only  practically 
possible,  but  they  are  conformable  to  our  nature,  and 
are  written  thereon  by  the  Creator.  So  thought  St. 
Paul,  for  he  tells  us  the  Lord  saith:  "I  will  put  my 
laws  into  their  hearts,  and  in  their  minds  will  I  write 
them,"  Heb.  x.  16.  But  this  is  more  pointedly  shown 
in  the  parable  of  the  Sower,  and  the  example  of  the 
Gentiles,  who  do  hy  nature  the  things  contained  in  the 
law. 

The  parable  of  the  Sower,  Mat.  xiii.  3-18,  Luke 
viii.  5-11,  represents  Jesus  as  casting  the  seeds  of  the 
word.  Some  fall  by  the  wayside,  some  in  stony  places 
and  among  thorns,  and  some  into  good  ground.     The 


EMOTION.  151 

religious  feeling  and  the  social  feeling  inherent  in 
man,  are  the  good  ground,  which,  receiving  the  seed, 
enables  it  to  take  root,  and  bear  forth  fruit.  It  is  the 
S2)irit  which  quickeneth  these  congenial  constituents, 
with  a  holy  heat  and  fervency.  lie  who  hath  not 
"  root  in  himself,"  and  in  whose  heart  the  seed  cannot 
grow  to  maturity,  is  the  man  who  has  become  hardened 
in  prejudice  and  egotism.  The  expressions  "  good 
ground,"  and  "  root  in  himself,"  clearly  indicate  a  nat- 
ural state  of  the  soul,  antecedent  to  the  hearing  of  the 
word,  and  to  the  infusion  of  the  Spirit.  Of  this  state 
we  have  an  example  in  those  Gentiles,  who  having  not 
the  law,  "  do  by  nature  the  things  contained  in  the 
law,"  and  "  show  the  work  of  the  law  written  in  their 
hearts^    Rom.  ii.  14,  15. 

!N'ow,  wdiat  is  this  natural  feeling  which  produces 
the  works  of  the  law  ? 

Tlie  example  of  Jesus  answers  ;  every  line  of  the 
New  Testament  answers  ;  but  there  is  one  line  which 
sums  up  the  response,  w^ith  a  brevity  and  pointedness 
which  no  Spartan  could  equal.  That  line  contains  not 
a  stroke  of  wit,  not  a  short  ejaculation  of  contempt, 
defiance,  pride,  or  stoicism  :  no,  it  compasses  more 
than  all  the  volumes  philosophers  have  written  on 
ethics  ;  and,  in  one  word,  it  teaches  the  wisdom  of  ages. 

St.  Paul  says.  Gal.  v.  14 : 

"  All  the  law  is  fulfilled  in  one  word  :  thou  shalt 
love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  love  of  man^  or  in  other 


152  HUMANICS. 

words,  the  social  feeling  proclaimed  as  being  the  piv- 
otal sentiment  from  which  all  human  virtue  doth  ra- 
diate. 

Upon  the  existence  of  this  sentiment  depends  all 
the  arts,  all  sciences,  all  laAvs,  and  all  governments,  for, 
without  the  social  attraction,  all  these  things  would  be 
useless  and  vain. 

"Without  this  sentiment  as  a  ground-hold,  what  a 
mockery  would  it  be  to  j)ronounce,  as  an  all-embracing 
commandment :  love  thy  neighbor  (that  is  to  say  every 
man)  as  thyself. 

If  philosophers  had  considered  the  full  force  and 
purview  of  the  social  feeling,  they  would  have  acknowl- 
edged not  only  its  paramount  importance,  but  also  that 
it  lies  much  deeper  in  the  soul  of  man,  than  the  other 
motives  they  have  taken  as  their  stand-point. 

Egotism,  though  the  very  opposite  of  the  social 
feeling,  is  in  fact  necessarilj^  subservient  to  it ;  for  it 
can  only  be  gratified  in  and  through  society.  This 
secondary  rank,  for  the  same  reason,  must  be  assigned 
to  Yanity,  Ambition,  and  Pleasure.  The  so-called 
moralists,  who  have  taken  these  words  as  their  pointers, 
are  forced  to  reconcile  them  with  the  social  feeling,  by 
showing  that  Interest  and  Egotism  are  well  served, 
Ambition  and  Yanity  are  properly  gratified.  Pleasure 
and  Pain  are  wisely  apportioned,  only  when  they  are 
controlled  by  a  due  regard  for  Society,  and  only  so  far 
as  they  can  be  reconciled  to  the  love  of  Man. 

As  to  Conscience,  the  Moral  Sense,  and  Honor,  they 


EMOTION.  153 

impl}^  the  existence  of  an  index  or  prompter,  wliieli 
guides  or  quickens  thern,  and  as  the  inward  voice  is 
never  else  than  the  echo  of  a  just  regard  for  our  fellow 
beings  and  society,  I  conclude  that  the  social  feeling  is 
the  real  monitor. 

Sympathy  is  but  a  form  or  mode  of  the  social  feel- 
ing, viewed  in  a  restricted  sense,  and  as  attracting  in- 
dividual to  individual.  The  same  remark  applies  to 
Benevolence. 

Experience,  Utility,  Eeason,  Use,  and  Abuse  of  fac- 
ulties, are  nothing  but  the  watchwords  of  emj)irical 
systems  devoid  of  any  cementing  or  governing  princi- 
ple. 

Justice,  Equity,  and  Equality  require  the  discovery 
of  a  standard  of  moral  weights  and  measures ;  and  as 
Justice,  &c.,  are  but  the  proper  ap^plication  of  that 
standard,  it  is  the  standard  itself  we  ought  to  recognize 
as  our  principle ;  but  it  is  in  our  associated  intercourse 
alone,  that  any  such  principle  can  have  any  force.  Is 
it  not,  therefore,  the  principle  of  association  itself, 
which  governs  all  social  morality  ? 

Thus  we  find  that  the  Social  feeling  is  after  all  the 
source  and  summary  of  every  virtue  and  law ;  for  with- 
out society  virtue  and  law  had  never  been  born,  nor 
could  they  ever  have  had  even  a  name.  The  social 
feeling  is  therefore  of  the  Bjyirit^  and  not  of  the  Flesh. 

In  accounting  for  the  existence  of  society,  some 
philosophers  have  resorted  to  imaginary  accidents  and 
events,  by  which  mankind  are  supposed,  through  the 


154  HUMANICS. 

necessity  of  self-protection,  and  mutual  safety,  to  have 
been  bronglit  together  in  families,  clans,  tribes,  and 
nations.  Man  is  supposed  to  have  been  at  first  not  only 
wild  but  isolated :  individual — having  no  permanent 
connection  with  his  fellows,  male  or  female.  The 
attacks  of  wild  beasts  and  of  enemies,  as  well  as  other 
circumstances,  dependent  not  upon  the  internal  nature 
of  humanity,  but  upon  a  gradual  discovery  of  the 
interests  of  the  individual,  are  given  by  philosophers 
and  jurists  in  beautiful  narratives,  as  the  causes  by 
which  man  has  been,  as  it  were,  driven  from  the  solitary 
to  the  social  state.  Tliis  theory  assumes  that  man  is 
by  temperament  or  instinct  inclined  to  the  solitary  state, 
and  that  he  was,  despite  natural  feeling,  compelled,  by 
the  force  of  external  causes,  to  associate  with  other  men. 

The  evidence  of  history,  geography,  and  zoology, 
contradict  this  opinion :  historians  have  always  found 
men  formed,  at  the  origin,  into  societies ;  geographers 
have  always  seen  them  living  together,  even  in  the 
wildest  lands ;  and  naturalists,  who  take  the  liberty  of 
establishing  analogies  between  man  and  other  living 
creatures,  divide  the  animal  kingdom  into  two  portions, 
the  gregarious  and  non-gregarious,  and  class  man  as 
belonging,  by  instinct,  to  the  first. 

If  man  were  destined  by  nature  for  the  solitary  state, 
how  happens  it  that  he  is  naturally  so  weak,  so  defence- 
less, and  so  naked  ?  We  find  everywhere  the  natural 
order  of  things  so  arranged,  that  every  animal  is  formed 
to  harmonize,  in   all  respects,  with   the   condition  in 


EMOTION.  155 

wliicli  lie  is  to  exist.  Yolumes  have  been  written  to 
show  the  beautiful  adaptation  of  all  things,  and  crea- 
tures in  the  universe,  as  illustrative  of  the  wisdom,  fore- 
sight, and  benevolence  of  the  Creator,  and,  in  fact,  as 
proving  the  existence  of  God  himself.  Is  man  an 
excejDtion  to  this  rule  of  general  accord,  so  admirable 
and  perfect  in  its  aggregate  and  details  ? 

Could  the  solitary  man  provide  against  his  physical 
deficiencies  ?  l^o :  he  is  left  weak,  defenceless,  and 
naked,  because  socialization,  for  which  he  feels  an  in- 
nate propensity,  meets  all  the  exigencies  of  this  natural 
helplessness  ;  and  moreover,  because  he  is  endowed 
with  faculties  for  which  motives  of  action  must  be  fur- 
nished. 

These  faculties  are  vast,  varied,  and  mighty.  They 
invest  man  with  the  dominion  of  the  globe.  Can  they 
have  been  so  lavishly  cast  upon  a  creature  inclined  to 
a  solitary  life  ?  To  answer  affirmatively,  is  to  impugn, 
without  a  reason,  the  supreme  wisdom  and  love,  so 
infallible  and  constant  in  all  other  respects. 

If  man  Avere  solitary,  the  greatest  number  of  the 
manifold  and  extensive  powers  of  the  mind  (though 
capable  of  bringing  all  things  into  subjection,  and 
though  having  the  appetite  to  do  it)  would  be  impris- 
oned in  the  narrowest  circle,  would  find  but  few  and 
limited  objects  and  occasions  for  their  action,  would  be 
deprived  of  sufficient  aliment  and  exercise,  and  would 
be  debarred  the  full  and  healthy  display  or  expansion 
of  their  natural  forces. 


156  HUMANICS. 

All  our  faculties  are  social  in  this  :  that  they  have 
capabilities  of  development  and  refinement  which 
naught  but  society  can  gratify. 

The  analytical,  synthetical,  logical,  imitative,  ideal- 
izing, ordinating,  mathematical,  and  constructive  powers 
of  the  mind,  all  require  the  great  field  of  social  inter- 
course, to  satisfy  their  impulses,  and  unfold  their  ener- 
gies. 

Deprived  of  the  natural  locomotive,  aggressive,  and 
defensive  members  and  instruments  given  to  other  ani- 
mals, stripped  of  all  natural  physical  protection  against 
the  elements,  and  his  enemies,  man,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  endowed  with  senses,  susceptible  of  and  eager  for  the 
most  luxurious  enjoyments.  His  sense  of  feeling  is  so 
tender  that  he  must  have  a  bed  to  sleep  on,  the  softest 
fabrics  to  clothe  himself  with,  the  smoothest  implements 
and  furniture  to  handle.  His  sense  of  taste  is  so  critical, 
and  his  stomach  is  so  weak,  that  cookery  with  its  heat 
and  its  condiments,  must  pre-digest  and  ensavor  his 
food.  His  sense  of  smell  is  so  accomplished,  that  the 
sweetest  and  gentlest  odors  are  those  which  impart 
him  pleasure.  His  hearing  is  so  nice  that  it  evokes 
music,  with  her  infinite  harmonies  and  melodies.  His 
sight  is  so  fastidious,  that  it  delights  only  in  lines  of 
beauty  and  scenes  of  sublimity. 

True  it  is,  some  animals  have  senses  more  acute  than 
those  of  man,  for  some  uses  ;  but  those  uses  are  of  the 
simplest  kind  and  are  single  and  specific  in  their  ends, 
while  the  senses  of  man  are  of  a  complex  character, 


EMOTION.  157 

are  capable  of  graduated  impressions,  of  perceiving 
seriated  degrees,  of  appreciating  combined  accords  and 
discordances,  and  demand  a  supply  of  subtle  enjoy- 
ments, wliicli  nauglit  but  the  arts  and  commerce  of 
society  can  afford. 

To  nourish  this  weak  and  un agile  body,  and  to  grat- 
ify those  senses,  (so  delicate  and  so  unfit,  by  their  nature, 
to  dwell  among  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest,  or  under 
the  inclemencies  of  the  desert,)  the  man,  fulfilling  the 
true  inclination  of  his  mind,  lives  among  and  with  his 
like,  and  finds  the  full  aliment  and  use  of  his  active 
intellectual  powers.  His  imitative  ingenuity  creates 
agriculture;  liis  mechanical  faculty  invents  all  the 
wonders  of  manufactures  and  machinery  ;  his  construc- 
tive propensity  produces  the  comforts  and  splendors 
of  architecture  and  viatecture  ;  his  analytical  powers 
discover  chemistry  and  botany ;  his  varied  appetites 
generate  commerce  with  its  multifarious  exchanges 
and  relations  ;  his  mathematical  genius  measures  the 
size,  distance,  and  pathway  of  the  stars,  and  expounds 
the  laws  which  control  revolving  worlds ;  liis  musical 
tastes  induce  him  to  frame  the  gamut  and  contrive 
cunning  instruments  of  sound ;  his  logical  capacities 
enable  him  to  trace  the  intricacies  and  explore  the 
depths  of  his  own  mind ;  and,  finally,  his  idealizing 
aspirations  procure  him  elegant  and  splendid  adorn- 
ments for  all  his  works,  and  start  painting,  poetry, 
and  sculpture  into  life.  Iso  pure  necessity  of  self-pres- 
ervation can  account  for  the  formation  of  the  society 


158  HUMANICS. 

wliicli  evolves  these  things;  but,  it  is  indubitable  that 
all  the  senses,  instincts,  feelings,  sentiments,  and  in- 
tellectual faculties  of  man  (of  themselves  and  by  their 
own  attraction)  draw  him  into  association  with  his  fel- 
lows. In  one  word,  man  is  endowed  by  nature  and  by 
nature's  God,  with  a  gregarious  instinct,  the  innate  de- 
sire of  society,  the  social  feeling. 

But  what  irrefragably  proves  that  man  is,  by  the 
natural  law,  a  social  animal,  is  the  fact  that  he  is  cre- 
ated with  the  gift  of  language.  This  gift  could  be  of  no 
possible  use  to  a  solitary  being ;  but  it  is  the  last  and 
m.ost  perfect  endowment  which  God  has  blessed  us  with 
to  lit  us  for  our  destiny.  Yain  would  it  be  for  me  to 
attempt  to  enumerate  all  the  consequences  which  flow 
from  this  divine  boon.  The  interchange,  the  transmis- 
sion of  ideas,  the  preservation  of  acquired  knowledge, 
the  progress  of  the  sciences  and  arts,  the  establishment 
of  commerce,  the  forum,  the  pulpit,  and  the  press — all 
these,  which  are  social  phenomena,  nay,  society  itself, 
could  not  have  existed  for  a  moment  without  language^ 
nor  could  language  itself  exist  without  society ;  and 
thus,  by  the  mutual  dependence  of  the  two,  does  it  be- 
come evident  that  man  is  by  nature  made  for  speech 
and  for  society. 

If,  then,  man  is  instinctively  and  organically  grega- 
rious and  social,  if  the  divinity  has  formed  and  endowed 
him  for  social  life,  if  he  finds  the  only  true  pleasurable 
outlet  of  all  his  feelings  and  faculties  in  a  life  of  com- 
munion  with  his  fellows,  if  it  is  only  in  society  and 


EMOTION.  159 

tbroiigli  society  that  he  can  be  happy,  does  it  not  fol- 
low that  the  social  feeling  is  the  main,  the  aggregate 
passion  of  human  nature,  the  point  at  which  centres 
every  precept  of  virtue,  and  the  pivot  or  criterion  on 
which  all  good  morals  and  all  good  laws  must  turn  ? 

In  analyzing  the  moral  sentiments  of  man,  we  do 
not  hesitate  to  class  as  natural  and  instinctive  feelings. 
Pity,  Cupidity,  Anger,  Love,  &c., — all  the  passions  are 
assigned  a  seat  in  the  soul,  or  (to  sj)eak  the  language 
of  positive  philosophy)  a  location  in  the  cerebral  or- 
ganization of  the  natural  man.  In  forming  the  list  of 
our  passions,  we  should  not  overlook  the  gregarious  or 
social  feeling.  In  my  opinion,  for  the  reasons  I  have 
given,  it  should  be  assigned  the  first  and  most  con- 
spicuous place.  Sym23atliy  and  pity  are  not  sufficient 
to  explain  the  phenomenon  of  society.  We  may, 
through  egotism,  or  from  some  other  cause,  feel  sympa- 
thy or  pity  for  a  dog,  a  horse,  a  bird,  &c.,  but  there  is 
a  gap  between  such  a  feeling  and  that  which  commands, 
as  an  imperious  want,  the  social  condition.  A  man, 
shipwrecked  upon  the  most  beauteous,  fruitful,  and 
genial  of  the  uninhabited  isles  of  the  ocean,  would  pine 
in  anguish  for  the  companionship  of  his  like ;  and  if, 
after  a  time,  his  deadliest  enemy  were  cast  upon  the 
lonely  Eden,  the  solitary  would  greet  the  new-comer 
with  tenderness  and  joy.  Both  would  fly  with  exhila- 
ration from  their  rich  and  shady  groves,  to  the  bosom 
of  society,  be  its  hardships  ever  so  great,  or  their  fate 
ever  so  uncertain.      The  history  of  hundreds  of  ship- 


160  HUMANICS. 

wrecks  niiglit  serve  to  illustrate  this  ;  and  the  romance 
of  Kobinson  Crusoe  is  only  a  truthful  summary  of  the 
observations  of  travellers  upon  this  trait  of  human  na- 
ture. 

It  is  now  established,  by  authentic  investigations, 
that  the  greatest  moral  torture  which  can  be  inflicted, 
is  solitary  imprisonment ;  and  the  current  of  opinion 
has  turned  against  it  as  a  nugatory  means  of  reforma- 
tion and  as  a  cruel  punishment.  Why  is  this  so  ? 
Simply  because  in  the  same  manner  as  we  recoil  with 
horror  from  the  cutting  and  scarring  of  the  physical 
man,  we  also  revolt  against  the  mutilation  of  the  spir- 
itual man,  and  must  therefore  condemn  the  act  which 
prevents  the  gratification  of  the  most  imperious  of  our 
natural  passions — the  desire  for  society. 

Solitary  imprisonment  excludes  all  the  intellectual 
and  moral  effects  society  is  wont  to  work  upon  the  in- 
dividual ;  and  consigns  him  to  the  complete  ossification 
of  all  the  best  impulses  of  his  nature.  Like  a  corpse 
thrown  into  the  deej)  grottos  of  Antiparos,  the  soul  of 
the  solitary  prisoner  becomes  petrified  and  void  of  all 
human  sensibility. 

An  irresistible  attraction,  far  more  powerful  than 
self-interest,  draws  us  into  social  intercourse,  l^ext  to 
life,  and  the  food  which  sustains  life,  we  require  society. 
Sever  us  from  society,  and  we  feel  as  if  divided  from 
ourselves,  a  branch  cut  from  the  tree  of  humanity, 
thrown  aside  to  wither  and  to  die. 

5.  The  Holy  Spirit. — But  the  Jesuic  Philosophy 


EMOTION.  161 

does  not  stop  here.  With  the  natural  social  feeling  it 
connects  two  other  facts  of  equal  importance.  I  mean 
the  existence  of  God,  and  the  immortality  of  the  Soul. 
A  knowledge  of  these  two  facts,  whether  arising  from 
natural  instinct,  or  reason,  or  from  revelation  alone,  at 
once  elevates  and  spiritualizes  the  social  feeling.  This 
knowledge  furnishes  the  social  feeling  with  its  highest 
sanction,  and  final  justification.  That  sanction  is  God's 
economy,  and  that  justification  is  the  eternal  brother- 
hood in  the  heavens. 

"  And  now  abideth  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity :  these 
three  ;  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  Charity."     (1  Cor 
xiii.  13.) 

The  union  of  these  three  in  the  breast  of  man, 
through  the  grace  of  God,  constitutes  in  the  Jesuic 
philosojDhy  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  consecrates 
our  body  as  the  temple  of  that  Spirit. 

That  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit  includes  the  love 
of  God,  the  love  of  man,  and  the  hope  of  immortal- 
ity, is  clearly  taught  by  tlie  ISTew  Testament.  "  The 
love  of  God,"  saitli  St.  Paul,  "  is  shed  abroad  in  our 
hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  given  to  us."  (Rom. 
V.  5.)  "  Beloved,  let  us  love  one  another^  for  love  is  of 
God,  for  every  one  that  loveth  is  lorn  of  Gocl^  and 
knoweth  God."  1  John  iv.  7.  '^  For  the  fruit  of  the 
Spirit  is  all  goodness,"  t%c.  (Eph.  v.  9  ;  Gal.  v.  22  ;  1 
John  ii.  9,  10  ;  1  John  iii.  14,  15.)  "  Now  the  God  of 
hope  fill  you  with  all  joy  and  peace  in  believing,  that 

ye  may  abound  in  hope,  through  the  power  of  the 
11 


162  HUMANICS. 

Holy  Ghost."    (Eom.  xv.  13.)     "  He  that  soweth  to  the 
Spirit,  shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting."     (Gal 
vi.  8.) 

These  texts,  without  seeking  for  numerous  others, 
corresponding  to  them,  are  sufficient,  in  a  religious 
point  of  view,  to  show  what  are  the  main  characteris- 
tics of  the  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  us ;  but 
it  is  the  connection  of  the  three,  which  forms  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  features  of  the  Jesuic  system. 

To  our  ideas  of  God,  -which  produce  feelings  of  rev 
erence  and.  awe,  the  Jesuic  philosophy  adds  views, 
awakening  tender  and.  grateful  sentiments.  ISTot  only 
is  God  eternal,  infinite,  single,  all-wise,  all-powerful, 
all-present,  incorruptible,  immutable,  just,  true,  holy, 
and  glorious,  but  he  is  good  and  ruerciful.  l^or  is  this 
goodness  and  mercy  confined,  by  the  Jesuic  doctrine, 
within  a  limited  sphere  ;  it  is  rich,  manifold,  and  abun- 
dant ;  it  is  as  infinite  and  everlasting  as  the  Divinity  him- 
self. 

God  loves  man  with  infinite  and  eternal  love. 

He  is  the  common  father  of  all  mankind. 

Man  partakes  of  God's  divine  nature,  being  made 
in  his  image,  and  being  vivified  by  his  breath. 

Through  God,  man  has  the  promise  of  spiritual  im- 
mortality and  celestial  happiness. 

These  are  the  doctrines  wdth  respect  to  God,  which 
Jesus  insisted  upon  the  most,  and  with  which  all  com- 
mandments are   connected ;    and   which   quicken  the 
physical  instinct  for  society,  by  the  spiritual  flame  of 
divine  love. 


EMOTION.  163 

If  God's  love  for  man  be  so  great,  once  conscious 
of  it,  we  naturally,  and  as  far  as  within  us  lies,  requite, 
obey,  and  serve. 

If  God  is  the  common  father  of  all  mankind,  it  fol- 
lows that  all  men  are  brothers,  and  should  love  one 
another. 

If  we  are  partakers  of  God's  nature,  it  follows  that 
all  his  moral  attributes  are  ours :  love,  truth,  patience, 
purity,  &c. 

If  through  God  we  are  assured  of  eternal  life,  we 
are  immediately  prompted  to  prepare  our  souls  for 
heaven  ;  and  this  preparation  imports  the  performance 
of  every  sanctifying  duty,  and  the  practice  of  every 
regenerating  virtue. 

Nor  is  this  process  of  argument,  which  connects  all 
rules  of  right  conduct  between  man  and  man  with  a 
belief  in  God,  a  mere  commentary  upon  the  teachings 
of  Jesus.  He  makes  the  argument  himself,  and  teaches 
these  opinions  in  express  and  direct  terms. 

St.  John  gives  as  a  reason  for  loving  God,  the  fact 
that  "  he  first  loved  us."  (1  John  iv.  19.)  In  many 
places  of  the  IsTew  Testament  Jesus  tenders  God's  love 
to  us,  and  asks  for  a  return  by  obedience  to  his  laws, 
while  he  makes  tempting  promises  of  reward  for  this 
return  and  obedience.  (Jno.  xiv.  15,  21,  23  ;  1  Cor.  ii. 
9  ;  Eph.  ii.  4 ;  Eom.  viii.  37  ;  John  iii.  16  ;  1  John  iv. 
9-11 ;  1  John  iii.  1,  16,  &c.) 

After  prescribing  love  to  God  as  the  first  and  great 
commandment,  he   says,  the   second,  inculcating  the 


164  HUMANICS. 

love  of  man,  '^  is  like  unto  the  first,"  (Matt.  xxii.  39,) 
thus  clearly  showing  the  intimate  connection  he  con- 
ceived to  exist  between  the  feelings  of  humanity  and 
love  to  God,  and  the  immediate  bearing  of  these  two 
commandments  one  upon  the  other..  Indeed  he  regards 
them  as  being  almost  identical.     (Mark  xii.  31.) 

He  points  to  the  love  of  God  for  man  in  general — of 
God  who  sendeth  rain  to  the  just  and  unjust  without 
distinction,  as  a  model  of  human  love  for  humanity. 
(Mat.  V.  M,  45  ;  Luke  vi.  36.) 

Love  your  enemies,  says  he,  "  that  ye  may  be  the 
children  oi  your  Father  \^^\AqX\  is  in  heaven  :  "  establish- 
ing the  use  of  the  endearing  name  of  Father,  as  appli- 
cable to  the  divinity,  and  establishing  also  the  tender 
relation  of  father  and  child  between  God  and  Man,  as 
foundations  for  an  appeal  to  us  as  children  to  imitate 
heaven  by  loving  even  the  wicked. 

To  enforce  this  relationship,  he  says  :  *'  All  ye  are 
hrcthren  ;  and  call  no  man  your  father  upon  the  earth ; 
for  one  is  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven."  Mat.  xxiii. 
8,  9.  Those  who  love  God  and  obey  him,  he  declares 
to  be  "  sons  of  God,"  John  i.  12 ;  Eom.  viii.  14 ;  and 
to  those  who  are  obdurate  in  sin,  he  assigns  another 
father,  the  devil.     (John  viii.  44.) 

From  such  premises,  viz.,  that  God  is  our  father, 
and  we  (as  long  as  we  do  not  obtain  Satan)  are  his  chil- 
dren, it  naturally  follows  that  we  are  ^^ j^artakers  of  the 
divine  nature.^''  So  indeed  is  it  expressly  declared, 
2  Pet.  i.  4 ;  Heb.  xii.  10. 


EMOTION.  165 

By  love  to  God,  by  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  and  by 
deeds  of  willing  mercy,  self-denial,  and  civic  heroism, 
we  are  taught  that  Man,  Jesus  and  God  may  be  as  one, 
in  each  other.  (John  xiv.  20 ;  xvii.  21,  26 ;  Acts  xvii. 
28 ;  Eph.  iv.  6 ;  1  John  iv.  6,  &c.) 

Our  body  itself  is  the  temple  of  God,  and  the  Spirit 
of  God  dwelleth  in  us,  1  Cor.  iii.  16  ;  vi.  19 ;  our 
members  are  his,  vi.  15  ;  our  spirit  is  his  own,  vi.  20. 

Such  being  the  case,  does  it  not  logically  follow,  as 
argued  by  the  gospel  itself,  that  we  should  love  and 
glorify  God  in  the  body  and  in  the  spirit,  by  preserv- 
ing their  purity,  and  by  avoiding  sin  ;  for  if  we  defile 
the  bod^^,  saith  St.  Paul,  we  destroy  the  temple  of  God. 
(1  Cor.  iii.  17.) 

In  one  word :  "  He  who  loveth  God,  loveth  his 
brother  also ; "  and  "  if  a  man  say,  I  love  God,  and 
hateth  his  brother,  he  is  a  liar."  (1  John  iv.  20,  21.) 
Can  language  convey,  in  more  forcible  terms,  the 
affinity  between  the  love  of  God  and  man  ? 

And  as  if  this  were  not  sufficient  to  persuade  us, 
the  Jesuic  philosophy  shows,  that  to  God's  love  we  are 
indebted  for  the  assurance  of  immortality ;  and  never 
abandoning  the  connection  between  our  duty  to  God, 
to  ourselves,  and  to  our  fellow-men,  this  immortality  is 
made  to  depend  upon  the  sincere  accomplishment  of 
these  duties,  in  spirit  and  in  deeds.  (Mat.  xxv.  34 ; 
Jam.  i.  12 ;  &c.)  It  would  be  a  superfluous  work  to 
collect  texts  showing  the  necessity  of  preparing  our- 
selves, so  as  at  all  times  to  be  worthy  of  participating 


166  HU  MANIC  S. 

ill  the  joj's  of  tlie  supernal  kingdom.  Every  reader  is 
familiar  with  this  point  of  the  doctrines  of  Jesus ;  and 
every  one  must  at  once  of  himself  perceive  the  reasons 
which  enforce  it. 

Ko  system  of  ethics  is  perfect,  or  even  tolerable, 
unless  it  teaches  the  existence  and  love  of  God,  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  and,  as  a  consequence,  the  uni- 
versal brotherhood,  arising  from  a  common  spiritual 
origin  and  destiny.  All  systems  devoid  of  this  ingre- 
dient, St.  Paul  properly  describes  as  "  oppositions  of 
science,  falsely  so  called ; "  and  of  them  warns  us  lest 
they  spoil  us  ''  through  philosophy  and  vain  deceit,  af- 
ter the  rudiments  of  the  world,  after  the  tradition  of 
men,  and  not  after  Christ." 

The  first  great  commandment  elevates  man  above 
the  beast,  links  him  with  the  Divinity,  and  gives  a 
sanction  to  virtue.  Its  absence  in  philosophical  trea- 
tises on  morals  is  the  cause  of  the  multiplicity  and  con- 
tradictions of  systems,  of  the  difficulty  of  fixing  upon  a 
criterion  or  primary  motive,  of  all  the  uncertainty  in 
fixing  upon  the  fundamental  rule  of  the  natural  law. 
The  love  of  God  is  just  as  natural  a  feeling,  and  is  as 
wide  in  its  compassing,  as  any  of  the  sentiments  which 
have  been  the  basis  of  learned  schemes  of  morality. 
Phrenology  sustains  this  opinion,  by  placing  reverence 
and  hope  high  in  the  order  of  moral  sentiments.  The 
love  of  God  might  therefore  be  easily  made  the  basis 
of  a  professedly  ''natural"  theory  of  ethics,  which 
would  be  at  least  as  respectable  as  those  having  Ego- 
tism, Conscience,  Utility,  &c.,  for  their  foundation. 


EMOTION.  167 

But  the  Jesuic  pliilosophy  teaches  that  love  to  God 
is  inseparably  bound  up  with  the  love  of  man,  and 
that  they  cannot  be  parted  without  injury  to  both. 
"  Keep  yourselves  therefore  in  the  love  of  God." 
(Jude  21.) 

Thus  it  is  evident  that  we  might,  according  to  Jesus, 
define  ethics  or  morals  as — 

1°.  The  science  of  the  Will  of  God ;  or  as 

S*'.  The  science  of  the  Salvation  of  the  Soul ;  or  as 

3".  The  science  of  the  love  of  man. 

But  as  the  three  are  so  closely  connected,  we  should 
at  once  say : 

Ethics  or  Moral  Philosophy  is  the  science  of  the 
moral  will  of  God^  and  teaches  us  our  duties  and  the 
reasons  of  our  duties  to  God,  to  ourselves,  and  to  others, 
by  Faitli  in  him,  through  Hope  of  immortality,  and  in 
Charity  or  Love  for  all  men. 

Theology  teaches  us  what  to  believe :  Ethics,  what  we 
should  do  ;  and,  the  two  together,  constitute  Religion. 

A  definition  of  morals  which  does  not  include  the 
DIVINE  WILL  (whether  revealed  by  prophets,  or  discov- 
ered by  induction)  as  a  main  component,  would  not 
accord  with  the  Jesuic  Philosophy.  In  fact,  this  philos- 
ophy claims  the  Divinity  as  its  source — it  never  ceases 
to  speak  in  the  name  of  God,  and  it  proclaims  the 
perfect  performance  of  all  our  moral  duties  as  the  ful- 
filment of  his  will.  (Mat.  vi.  10  ;  vii.  21 ;  Luke  xi.  2  ;  1 
Cor.  ii.  6-16;  Philip,  ii.  IT;  iii.  M,  15;  Heb.  x. 
36;   IPet.  iv.  2;  1  John  ii.  IT.) 


168  HUMANICS. 

Indeed,  all  definitions  of  Moral  Philosophy  should 
comprise  this  element.  Is  it  not  by  the  Divine  will 
that  "  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being "  ?  and 
has  not  the  Divinity  given  us  this  existence  for  a  great 
and  eternal  purpose?  In  this  great  design  and  pur- 
pose he  manifested  his  will ;  and  if  we  seek  to  act  in 
harmony  wdth  it,  should  we  not,  at  once,  define  the 
science  which  teaches  us  to  do  so,  as  the  science  of  the 
moral  will  of  God  ? 

Certain  it  is,  at  all  events,  that  this  is  the  true  defi- 
nition according  to  Jesus — of  Jesus,  whose  mission  as 
summed  up  by  himself,  was  the  doing  and  the 
teaching  of  the  Will  of  God.  (Luke  viii.  21 ;  xi.  28  ; 
John  iv.  34: ;  v.  30 ;  vi.  38-40 ;  viii.  28,  29.) 

But  if  the  definition  stopped  here  it  would  be  in- 
complete, for  the  mind  remains  unsettled  if  left  at  so 
great  a  height  to  contemplate  the  boundless  space  of  the 
heavenly  ordinances.  A  well-marked  purview,  and 
brief  precision,  are  necessary  in  every  definition.  This 
brief  precision  is  attained  at  once  by  including  in  the 
definition  itself  an  index  to  the  triple  basis  of  the  whole 
moral  law.  Its  source :  Faith  in  the  eternal  reign.  Its 
medium :  Hope  in  the  infinite  goodness.  Its  ground- 
work :  Charity  to  the  whole  brotherhood  of  the  Al- 
mighty Father. 

And  thus  is  the  social  feeling  lifted  above  mere  in- 
stinct, purified,  intellectualized  by  an  identification  w^ith 
Love  to  God,  a  reliance  in  his  love  of  us,  and  a  con 
sciousness  of  the  common  origin  of  the  human  family. 


EMOTION.  169 

And  tlius  will  the  Holy  Spirit  be  made  manifest ; 
and  "  at  that  day,"  saitli  Jesus,  "  ye  shall  know  that  I 
am  in  my  Father,  and  you  in  me,  and  I  in  you" — "  that 
all  may  be  one." 

Whenever  any  one  of  the  three  characteristics  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  is  expressly  or  tacitly  omitted  in  any  defini- 
tion of  morals,  or  is  misunderstood,  or  is  made  to  pre- 
dominate, many  errors  are  the  consequence ;  and  from 
the  wrong  beginning  systems  are  deduced,  of  which 
Superstition,  or  Atheism,  or  Asceticism,  or  Sensualism, 
or  Egotism,  or  Communism,  is  the  ruling  feature. 

Thus  we  have  : — 

Superstition  :  the  affrighted  visionary,  who  beholds 
hideous  phantoms  in  every  rising  truth — who  fears,  but 
loves  not  God,  resolves  all  merit  into  the  formulas  of 
belief  and  rituals  of  worship ;  and  sends  forth  her  at- 
tendants. Ignorance,  the  eyeless  ;  Fanaticism,  the  foam- 
ing epileptic ;  Intolerance,  the  inquisitor ;  and  Perse- 
cution, the  iron-hearted,  to  anathematize  science,  torture 
dissenters,  drown  w^itches,  burn  heretics,  and  massacre 
whole  populations  of  reformers. 

Or  we  have — • 

Atheism  :  the  Satanic  scoffer,  njocking  heaven  and 
inspiration,  and  coupling  man  with  the  brute ;  he 
stands  before  the  world  with  his  companions,  Panthe- 
ism the  idolater,  and  Skepticism  the  blind  astronomer, 
all  reeking  with  the  blood  of  their  fellow-creatures, 
slain  in  the  name  of  Liberty  and  Truth. 

Or  we  have — 


170  HUMANICS. 

Asceticism :  the  moving  corpse  without  a  grave, 
who  severs  himself  from  the  human  family,  avoids 
brotherly  intercourse  and  love,  walks  through  life 
wrapped  in  the  winding-sheet  of  the  dead,  and  hails 
the  Sepulchre  as  a  portal  of  escape  from  a  land  of  un- 
congenial strangers. 

Or  we  have — 

Sensualism  :  the  abject  satyr,  reeling  with  wine,  gorg- 
ing at  feasts,  and  grovelling  in  lust — Sensualism,  whose 
God  is  the  belly,  and  whose  law  is  pleasure. 

Or  we  have — 

Egotism  :  the  machiavelic  Proteus,the  masked  bravo, 
tendering  the  cup  of  deception  brimful  of  blood  and 
poison,  or  kneeling  in  adoration  before  his  mirrored 
self,  beyond  whom  he  knows  nothing  and  loves  nothing  ; 
reducing  all  morals  to  the  casuistry  of  experience  or 
utility,  appealing  to  vanity  under  the  name  of  honor, 
knowing  conscience  only  as  the  fear  of  pains  and  pen- 
alties, admitting  honesty  only  as  the  best  policy,  teach- 
ing hypocrisy  and  flattery  as  social  virtues,  advocating 
justice  but  discarding  mercy,  praising  charity  but 
practising  it  only  through  penurious  alms,  and  know- 
ing no  law  but  interest,  no  agent  of  good  but  the  fet- 
ters of  despotism  or  the  lash  of  tyrants. 

Or  we  have — 

Communism :  the  philanthropic  Procrustes,  who 
fain  like  egotism  (for  extremes  meet)  would,  under 
pretence  of  equality  and  universal  justice,  compel  all 
men,  by  fire  and  sword,  to  be  disinterested  and  hum- 


EMOTION.  171 

ble ,  and,  in  the  name  of  humanity,  destroy  all  liberty 
and  moral  responsibility. 

It  would  carry  me  far  beyond  the  plan  of  this  work 
to  take  up  each  particular  Selfish  afi'ection,  and  show 
in  detail  the  views  of  Jesus  upon  it  separately.  Hun- 
dreds of  texts  might  be  quoted  to  show  that  Jesus, 
though  he  did  not  condemn  the  innate  feelings  neces- 
sary to  self-preservation  and  generation,  made  them  all 
subordinate  to  the  love  of  Humanity  and  the  liappiness 
of  Society.  He  raised  the  marriage  institution  to  that 
inviolability  which  gave  it  a  social  instead  of  a  private 
character  ;  for  he  made  the  promise  of  mutual  fidelity 
to  depend  upon  the  w^elfare  of  the  community,  and 
yielded  little  or  nothing  to  the  interests,  passions,  health, 
or  incompatibility  of  the  husband  and  wife.  He  treated 
the  relations  of  child  and  parent,  of  friends  and  com- 
panions, of  home  and  property,  as  entirely  secondary  ; 
and  required  his  disciples  to  leave  all,  when  it  was 
necessary  to  do  so,  to  follow  him — that  is  to  say,  to 
save  the  people.  Self-sacrifice  and  Civic  Heroism  are 
taught  in  every  discourse,  and  illustrated  by  every  act 
of  Jesus,  as  being  paramount  law,  by  virtue  of  which 
the  animal  instincts  and  afiections  find  a  common  centre 
around  which  they  may  all  cluster  in  peace,  and  a 
common  measure  to  which  they  may  all  conform  with- 
out interference  and  collision. 

It  is  therefore  unnecessary  to  enter  into  further  de- 
tails.    It  is  only  necessary  to  read  the  New  Testament 


172  HUMANICS. 

by  this  single  light  and  according  to  this  spirit,  and 
the  whole  philosophy  thereof,  in  its  unity  and  in  every 
application  and  precept,  will  become  ajDparent  to  every 
intelligent  and  unprejudiced  inquirer. 

If  Justice  can  exist  at  all,  it  is  in  the  fulfilment  hy 
Society  of  its  obligation  towards  each  of  its  members 
viewed  as  a  limb  of  its  body,  so  as  to  secure  the  good 
of  each  through  the  happiness  of  all,  and  thus  establish 
the  equilibrium  of  Individual  and  Municipal  Eights. 


IV. 

THOUGHT. 

Johnson  says  :  "  Thought  is  the  operation  of  the 
mind ;  the  act  of  thinking."  "  It  is,"  says  he  in  another 
place,  "the  action  of  man's  intelligent  substance — the 
first  fundamental  faculty  of  man." 

Webster  says  :  "It  is  the  act  or  operation  of  the 
mind,  when  attending  to  a  particular  subject  or  thing ; 
or  it  is  the  idea  consequent  upon  that  operation." 

Locke  says:  "Thinking  is  the  action  of  the  soul, 
not  its  essence ; "  and  in  another  place  he  says :  "  When 
the  mind  turns  its  view  inwards,  and  contemplates 
its  own  actions,  thinking  is  the  first  that  occurs." 

Descartes  held  that  "  To  feel  and  will,  is  to  think." 

Condillac,  conversely,  held  that  "  To  think  and  will, 
is  to  feel."  In  another  place  he  says .  "  The  word 
thought  in  its  acception  comprises  all  the  faculties  of 
the  understanding,  and  all  those  of  the  will."  Also : 
"  Every  thought  has  its  proportions  and  its  ornaments." 

Laromiguere  defines  Thought  to  be  "  the  aggregate 
of  our  sensitive,  moral,  and  intellectual  faculties." 


174  HUMANICS. 

Eacon  concurs  with  Aristotle,  in  the  apt  and  elegant 
remark  :  "  That  the  hand  is  the  instrument  of  instru- 
ments, and  the  mind  the  form  of  forms." 

"The  Dictionary  of  Philosophical  Science,"  publish- 
ed by  Hachette,  Paris,  1844,  says:  "Thought  {cogitates) 
is  the  internal  movement  of  the  intellect :  the  evolution 
which  the  mind  performs  upon  itself,  apart  from,  but 
influenced  by  its  properties." 

With  these  definitions  before  us,  we  may  say, 
thought  involves  three  things :  I''.  An  object,  2°.  A 
Motor,  3°.  A  movement ;  or,  in  other  words,  1^.  Contents 
of  mind,  whether  they  be  considered  as  real  or  ideal, 
me  or  not  me ;  for,  in  either  view,  they  are  the  objects 
of  thought ;  2''.  ProiKrties  of  mind ;  and  3**.  Process  of 
Mind. 

1°.  Instead  of  Contents  we  may  sa}^  : — Facts,  Sub- 
ject, Object,  Reality,  Matter,  Phenomena,  Substance, 
Time,  Place,  Duration,  Space,  IS'umber,  Order,  Recol- 
lections, Images,  Suppositions,  Opinions,  Resolutions, 
&c.,  i.  <?.,  every  thing  of  which  we  are  conscious  as  a 
DATA  or  MATTEK  of  thought,  whether  we  conceive  it  to 
be  self  or  not  self,  subjective  or  objective,  mediate  or 
immediate,  presentative  or  representative. 

2".  Instead  of  Pkoperties  we  might  say : — Sensation, 
Faculties,  Powers,  Affections,  Propensities,  Passions, 
Feelings,  Sentiments,  Laws,  Instincts,  Appetites,  Mem- 
ory, Imagination,  Intellect,  Motive,  the  power  of 
Judgment,  of  Reason,  of  Comparison,  of  Association, 
4>f  Abstraction,  of  Generalization,  &c.,  i.  e,^  every  thing 


THOUGHT.  175 

of  which  we  are  conscious,  as  internal  foeces  or  pow- 
ers indAicing  any  mental  action  whatever. 

3^.  Instead  of  Process  we  might  say : — Logic,  Com- 
puting, Measuring,  Analyzing,  Synthetizing,  General- 
izing, Inducting,  Deducting,  Comparing,  Classifying, 
&c.,  i.  e.^  the  acts  themselves  and  their  laws^  as  exliibited 
in  the  movement  of  the  thinking  mind,  while  perform- 
ing its  rational  function. 

Let  it  be  noted  that  in  making  this  summary,  I  take 
the  definitions  of  thought  given  by  philosophers,  as  1 
find  thern^  and  do  not  here  assume  a  tlieory  of  my  own ; 
and  even  in  those  definitions,  I  take  as  true  only  such 
facts  or  points  as  are  agreed  upon  by  all  the  professors 
of  every  school. 

Thus  our  beginning  is  upon  conceded  ground ;  and, 
secure  in  undisputed  premises,  I  start  to  find  new  foot- 
holds of  progress. 

Wherever  the  professors  oi philosojphy  have  differed, 
I  will  investigate  for  myself ;  and  invite  the  reader  to 
join  me. 

At  this  stage  we  may,  at  least,  say  : 

Thought  is  the  movement  (Process)  of  the  mind 
upon  itself  (Contents)  as  influenced  by  its  own  cajpahil- 
ities  (Properties). 

Thought  must  have  a  beginning,  or  what  in  figur- 
ative language  is  called  a  basis,  a  foundation,  a  pivot, 
a  fulcrum,  a  stand-point,  a  centre,  &c.  If  it  had  not 
this  it  never  could  be  positive,  never  be  fixed,  never 


176  HUMANICS. 

act  with  certainty ;  for  the  very  idea  of  certitude  im- 
plies an  initial  fact  behind  which  thought  cannot  go,  a 
primary  truth  which  the  mind  cannot  contest,  and  out 
of  which  all  argument  must  proceed — and  which  like 
the  star-needle  to  the  mariner  must  command  our 
faith. 

This  initiatory  act  is  (we  deferentially  suggest) 
Numeration,  or  Enumeration.  It  is  the  beginning  of 
thought ;  for  it  furnishes  all  the  materials  of  reasoning 
in  all  science  and  art,  and  it  contains  within  itself  the 
primal  law  of  intelligence. 

This  act  of  enumeration  is  performed  by  sensation 
and  emotion,  in  conjunction  with  an  inherent  power  of 
the  mind,  which  enables  it  to  take,  to  form,  to  assume, 
to  evolve  a  unit. 

In  mathematics  this  fact  is  indisputable.  In  ever}- 
other  science  it  will  be  found,  upon  scrutiny,  to  be 
equally  undeniable. 

A  little  attention  to  facts  will  enable  us  to  know 
that  the  mind  in  receiving  or  gathering  its  sensations, 
does  nothing  but  enumerate. 

Indeed,  if  sensation  were  to  stop  short  of  embody- 
ing integers,  or  concrete  units,  where  would  our  knowl- 
edge of  any  thing  be  ?  What  would  that  knowledge 
consist  of  without  units  of  matter,  motion,  time,  space, 
substance,  force,  quality,  quantity,  body,  spirit,  or 
definition,  whether  expressed  by  a  name  or  a  number  ? 
Without  a  numeral  unit,  no  fraction,  no  addition,  no  sum, 
no  mathematics  could  be  conceived.     So  without  an 


THOUGHT.  177 

abstract  or  concrete  integer  described  or  defined  with 
certainty,  no  analysis  could  be  made,  no  synthesis  could 
be  known  or  found,  no  induction  or  deduction  could  be 
carried  out,  and  logic  could  not  exist.  True  it  is,  units 
Avhich  might  be  treated  in  arithmetical  numbers  do  not 
abound  in  philosophy,  morals,  law,  religion,  and  the  like ; 
but  at  the  same  time,  it  is  equally  true  that  these  sciences 
are  strictly  to  be  considered  as  sciences  only  so  far  as 
their  contents  can  be  named  and  defined,  which  is 
equivalent  to  enumerating  them.  As  we  progress  in 
finding  clear  limits  to  the  entities  named,  or  as  the 
name  given  approaches  to  a  distinct  unit,  so  does  the 
science  improve.  As  the  parts  of  which  its  synthetical 
unit  is  composed,  also  acquire  this  clearness  of  limit,  so 
does  a  science  approach  perfection.  Outside  of  exact 
integers  there  is  no  science  worthy  of  the  name,  and 
hence  we  are  induced  to  assume  the  laws  of  number 
and  measure  as  the  laws  of  all  reasoning  in  legislation, 
ethics,  politics,  &c. 

I  do  not  mean  by  this  that  these  sciences  can  be 
treated  in  arithmetical  numbers  or  geometrical  figures ; 
but  that  as  numbers  and  figures  are  the  data  of  abstract 
mathematics,  so  names,  definitions,  and  stated  facts,  are 
the  algebraical  signs  of  every  concrete  science,  wheth- 
er it  can  be  reduced  to  numbers  or  not ;  and  that  the 
same  laws  of  thought  govern  in  reasoning  w^ith  these 
names,  &c.,  as  in  reasoning  with  arithmetical  numerals 
or  geometrical  figures. 

Hence,  my  general  proposition  is : 
12 


178  HUMANICS. 

V.  That — the  initial  act^  germ  ^oint^  or  focal  cen- 
tre of  all  thought  IS  THE  IDEATION  OF  THE 
UNIT ;  and,  therefore, 

2^  That — from  the  ideation  of  the  unit  all  evolu- 
tions of  thought  proceed,  and  to  it  all  compositions  and 
decompositions  of  thought  recur. 


In  showing  this  I  begin  with — 


LOGICAL  ENUMERATION. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  subject  matter  and 
end  of  all  thought  is  fact.  Reasoning  is  a  procedure 
from  fact  to  fact. 

"We  have  also  seen  that  there  are  certain  data  given 
by  consciousness  which  are  by  necessity  the  initial 
premises  or  prima  ratio  in  all  reasoning,  and  behind 
which  we  cannot  find  a  stand  or  starting  point.  The 
facts  thus  exhibited  to  thought  by  consciousness  are  its 
materials. 

But  what  is  a  fact  ? 

A  fact  is  any  single  state  or  act  w^hich  can  be  de- 
clared by  a  simple  sentence.  Examples :  1.  "I  am ; " 
2.  "  The  Jews  cruelly  crucified  the  divine  Jesus." 

In  these  two  examples  we  have  simple  sentences — 
there  being  only  one  verb  in  each  example. 

But  the  first  example  cannot  be  multiplied  into  a 
greater  number,  w^hile  the  second  example  might  serve 
to  form  several  simpler  sentences ;  thus  : 


THOUGHT.  179 

The  Jews  crucified  Jesus  ; 
The  Jews  were  cruel ; 
Jesus  was  divine,  &c. 

So  it  appears  that  a  single  fact  may  be  either  simple 
or  complex. 

1.  A  simple  fact,  is  that  which  may  be  declared  by 
a  simple  sentence,  that  is  to  say,  a  sentence  which  can- 
not be  multiplied  or  divided  into  several  without  adding 
to  the  sense. 

2.  A  complex  fact,  is  that  which  is  declared  by  a 
complex  sentence.  A  compound  sentence  (which  is 
defined  as  one  which  can  be  resolved  into  clauses)  al- 
ways declares  two  or  more  simple  or  complex  facts ; 
as  :  "  Plato  and  Aristotle  were  men  of  great  wisdom  ; 
but  their  philosophy  w^as  inferior  to  that  of  Jesus." 

Besides  being  simple  or  complex,  facts  are  either 
direct  or  indirect. 

1.  A  direct  fact,  is  that  which  is  perceived  by  con- 
sciousness without  the  aid  of  any  process  of  addition, 
subtraction,  multiplication,  division,  reduction  or  ratio. 
It  is  the  pure  enumeration  or  remembrance  of  what  is 
felt,  as  it  is  felt.  It  may  be  either  the  present  sensation 
and  feeling,  or  an  image  supplied  by  memory,  or  a  defi- 
nition and  conviction  heretofore  sanctioned  and  now  re- 
lied on  as  an  axiom.  Its  essential  characteristics  are : 
1°,  immediate  recognition  by  the  mind  as  truth,  with- 
out discussion  or  douht  /  and  2^,  completeness  or  total- 
ity— that  is  to  say,  not  requiring  before  recognition 
the  conjunction  or  elimination  of  any  other  fact  or  idea. 


180  HUMANICS. 

2.  An  indirect  fact,  is  one  which  (whether  simple 
or  complex)  is  joined  to,  taken  from,  or  measured  with 
others  to  form,  leave,  or  find  a  previously  unknown  or 
unj)erceived  entire  truth. 

ISTow  for  the  Unit. 

In  mathematics  the  idea  of  the  unit  involves  the 
possibility  of  repetition^  one,  two,  three,  &c.,  numbers 
of  times ;  but  this  is  not  the  positive  and  true  idea  of 
the  unit.  A  thing  may  be  a  unit  though  tliere  be  only 
one  of  its  nature  in  the  universe.  The  fact  that  it  is  one 
is  enough  to  constitute  it  a  unit,  though  it  cannot  in 
fact  be  repeated.  It  is  one,  whether  there  be  another 
one  or  not.  When  it  can  be  repeated,  what  do  we  say  ? 
"We  say,  that  there  are  many  units  of  the  same  denom- 
ination. Each  is  of  itself  a  unit ;  and  as  such  it  does 
not  depend  upon  the  existence  of  any  other  thing  like 
or  unlike  it.  God  is  07i6 ;  vet  the  true  idea  of  God 
precludes  the  possibility  of  repetition.  The  sun  is  one, 
the  moon  is  one ;  and  they  are  units  in  themselves 
whether  there  be  other  suns  and  moons  or  not.  In  the 
science  of  numbers,  what  is  meant  by  two,  three,  &c.  ? 
Two  simply  means  one  and  one ;  three  means  one,  one 
and  one :  the  same  can  be  repeated  as  to  four,  &c. 
The  figures  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  merely  serve  as  a  short- 
hand to  express  the  repetition  of  units  of  the  same  kind ; 
but  if  units  of  difterent  kinds  are  taken  too:ether  this 
form  of  short-hand  is  no  longer  applicable,  and  we  are 
obliged  in  lieu  of  numbers  to  call  eacli  thing  by  its  sub- 


THOUGHT.  181 

stantive  name.  Thus  several  objects  are  before  me — 
they  are:  Apple,  Horse,  Diamond;  I  do  not  count 
them;  but  by  the  giving  of  these  names  an  act  of 
enumeration  is  performed.  Indeed,  even  in  the  science 
of  numbers,  things  of  different  kinds  are  reduced  to  a 
common  denominator,  to  render  their  computation  in 
arithmetical  characters  possible.  Thus  we  say:  two 
three,  four,  &c.,  "  things,"  though  these  things  thus 
numerically  designated  may  be  totally  dissimilar  in 
themselves. 

A  UNIT  is  any  single  entirety.  It  is  any  single  and 
entire  thing,  person  or  fact,  being,  act  or  quality. 

Upon  considering  the  facts  embodied  in  this  defi- 
nition, we  find : 

1°.  The  PUKE  or  abstkact  unit,  which  is  the  idea  of 
one  independent  of  any  auxiliary  object;  or  the  mere 
elementary  number  or  measure  of  its  like  without  re- 
gard to  any  interposed  standard  of  substance  or  force. 
The  pure  unit  regards  only  itself.  The  semibreve  is  the 
pure  unit  of  musical  sounds.  Thus  the  mere  sign  of 
unity — the  figure  1 — may  be  regarded  as  constituting 
a  unit  in  itself,  and  from  thence  all  the  operations  of 
pure  arithmetic  may  be  demonstrated,  without  ever 
thinking  of  any  application  or  relation  beyond  that  ot 
the  signs  among  themselves,  as  mere  conventional  as- 
sumptions. 

If  a  mathematician  deals  habitually  with  puee  arith- 
metical numbers,  algebraical  tokens,  and  geometrical 
figures,  apart  from  any  direct  applications,  his  aggre- 


182  HUMANICS. 

gate  intellectual  fjrce  will  diminish,  while  if  he  con- 
stantly applies  his  rules  and  processes,  as  a  form  of  rea- 
soning, to  all  practical  questions,  the  acuteness,  strength, 
and  clearness  of  his  mind  will  increase. 

2°.  The  STANDARD  or  COMMON  unit,  which  is  the  ap- 
plied standard  of  weight,  force,  value,  time,  distance, 
capacity,  &c.  It  involves  the  idea  of  a  positive  rela- 
tion between  two  (or  more)  real  things — one  of  which 
serves  as  the  measure.  It  differs  from  the  pure  unit  in 
this,  that  it  is  juxtaposited  with  another  something. 
Ex. :  a  Cent;  a  Man;  an  Animal,  &c. 

3°.  The  CONCRETE  or  proper  unit,  which  is  any  deli- 
nitely  limited  and  single  thing,  or  person,  including  sev- 
eral qualities  or  circumstances  as  parts  or  attributes  of 
its  unity.     Ex. :  the  Man ;  that  Horse ;  Adam,  &c. 

4°.  The  collectr^e  or  multiple  unit,  which  is  any 
single  term,  or  name,  including  man}^  individuals. 
Ex. :  Men  ;  Synod ;  Committee,  &c.  All  plural  nouns 
and  plural  integers  are  collective  units. 

5°.  The  COMPLEX  or  verbal  unit,  which  is  any  sin- 
gle fact  or  declaration  including  a  subject  or  a  predi- 
cate considered  together.  Ex. :  What  I  feel ;  my  Love ; 
&c. ;  Thinking;  Dreaming,  &c. 

Euclid  says : 

"  Unity  is  that  according  to  which  each  of  existing 
things  is  called  one.'''' 

"  Any  thing  may  be  unity  for  other  things  of  its 
own  kind." 


THOUGHT.  183 

Two  other  distinctions  of  great  importance  remain 
to  be  noted. 

Units  are  either 

I.  Constant  or  Variable. 

II.  l^umeral  or  Ab -numeral. 

I. 

1.  Constant  units  are  those  that  retain  the  same 
value  in  the  same  expression. 

2.  Yaeiable  units  are  those  which  admit  of  an  in- 
definite number  of  values,  in  the  same  expression. 

II. 

# 

1,  Numeral  units  are  those  which  are  computed  by 
means  of  numbers. 

2.  Ah-numeral  units  are  those  which  are  computed 
without  the  use  of  numbers. 

Davies,  in  his  Logic  of  Mathematics,  says  : 
"  Algebraic  symbols  may  stand  for  all  numhers^  or 
for  all  quantities  which  numbers  represent,  or  even  for 
quantities  which  cannot  he  exactly  exjyressed  numeri- 
cally.''^ 

"  In  Geometry,  each  geometrical  figure  stands  for  a 
class  ;  and  when  we  have  demonstrated  a  property  of 
a  figure,  that  property  is  considered  proved  for  every 
figure  of  the  class." 

The  whole  process  of  reasoning  b}^  numeral  units. 


184  HUMANICS. 

is  explained  in  Arithmetic  ;  and  it  is  not  onr  object  to 
treat  tins  branch  of  our  subject  further  than  to  show 
the  identity  of  its  principles  with  the  process  of  rea- 
soning upon  instances  of  ab-numeral  units. 

The  numeration  of  Arithmetic,  and  the  enumera- 
tion of  general  logic,  differ  only  in  appearance — not  in 
essence. 

The  arithmetician  does  not  find  it  necessary  to  give 
a  distinct  name  to  every  quantity  which  enters  into  his 
process. 

The  standards  of  the  quantities  with  which  he  deals, 
their  commeasurability,  enables  him  to  use  the  short- 
hand of  digits. 

The  general  logician,  on  the  contrary,  encounters 
the  necessity  of  distinct  names  for  the  several  quanti- 
ties he  operates  upon ;  and  he  finds  it  almost  always 
impossible  to  apply  numbers  to  these  quantities. 

Yet  he  always  regards  them  as  quantities,  and 
though  he  does  not  enumerate  them  by  digits,  he  names 
every  item  of  his  computations,  and  is  able  to  measure 
them,  at  least  so  far  as  to  declare  that  this  or  that  term 
is — "  more  or  less  than^''  "  increased  or  diminished  Jy," 
"  added  to,"  "  taken  from,"  "  the  equal  of,"  &c. 

The  algebraist  keeps  his  quantities  distinctly  appa- 
rent throughout  his  process,  by  means  of  signs  :  a,  J, 
c,  a?,  2/,  s,  &c. ;  the  general  logician  uses  names,  defini- 
tions, phrases,  in  fact  every  form  and  artifice  of  lan- 
guage ;  generally  keeping  the  terms  of  his  computation 
distinct  under  their  respective  marks,  as  in  algebra. 


THOUGHT.  185 

The  logician  is,  however,  frequently  enabled  to 
merge  the  manifold  terms  of  a  ratiocination  into  new 
and  comprehensive  titles,  and  like  the  arithmetician, 
he  often  sums  up  or  solves  wdth  a  precision  not  to  be 
surpassed  in  numeral  logic. 

But  we  are  anticipating. 

It  is  sufficient  at  the  present  stage  to  note  this : 
that  when  the  materials  of  an  argument  cannot  be 
counted^  when  numerals  cannot  be  used  to  compute 
them,  they  are  only  inventoried.  A  list  is  made  of  all 
the  items,  by  titles,  phrases,  and  names ;  and  this  is 
logical  I^Tumeration  or  Enumeration. 

The  principles  which  ought  to  govern  such  an  enu- 
meration, will  be  better  understood  after  an  exposition 
of  the  operations  of  addition  and  multiplication,  sub- 
traction and  division,  reduction  and  ratio,  which  may 
take  place  apart  from  any  digital  numeration ;  and 
only  by  names  and  grammatical  signs. 

In  the  mean  time  I  remind  the  reader  : 

1^  As  to  identity  of  names  with  number :  that  when 
Pythagoras  was  asked  which  being  he  thought  was 
wisest  ?  he  answered  :  "  NwiiberP  Which  the  next 
wisest  ?  he  answered :  "  That  which  has  given  names 
to  things^ 

2^.  As  to  the  initial  act  of  thought :  that  in  Gene- 
sis ii.  19,  it  is  written  :  "  Out  of  the  ground  the  Lord 
God  formed  every  beast  of  the  field,  and  every  fowl 
of  the  air,  and  brought  them  imto  Adam,  to  see  what 
he  would  CALL  themP 


186  HUMANICS. 


ADDITION. 


How  are  we  to  add  together  terms  not  comineasiir- 
able,  terms  of  different,  of  mixed,  of  irregular  values, 
denominations,  qualities,  orders,  and  natures  ? 

Algebra,  wliich  deals  only  in  such  quantities  as  can 
finally  be  reduced  to  exact  numbers,  nevertheless  sug- 
gests an  answer  to  our  question  ;  for  it  marks  the  quan- 
tities by  artificial  names :  a,  b,  c,  x,  y,  z,  &c.,  and 
treats  these  artificial  names  as  positive  entities,  till  a 
convenient  period  in  the  operation  presents  itself  for 
making  the  reduction. 

Logical  addition  proceeds  in  a  similar  manner  ;  and 
differs  only  in  the  form  of  the  reduction. 

Instead  of  merging  the  items  into  a  sum  total  of 
exact  numbers,  it  finds  a  total  name,  or  phrase,  which 
sums  up  all  the  terms  of  the  problem. 

For  example : 

Add  together  the  following  terms : 


A  tiling:, 
A  price, 
A  receiver, 
A  deliverer. 


A  consent  to  receive, 
A  consent  to  deliver. 


Tlie  sum  total  is  :       A  contract  of  "  Sale." 

The  sum  total  of  this  addition,  instead  of  being  ex- 
pressed in  figures,  is  set  down  in  the  word  "  Sale," 


THOUGHT.  187 

which  is  just  as  clear  and  exact  as  any  aggregate  ex- 
pressed in  digits  could  be. 

An  indefinite  number  of  parallel  examples  might 
be  given  here ;  but  the  intelligent  reader  needs  no 
others. 

MULTIPLICATION. 

This  form  of  reasoning  is  identical  in  principle  with 
addition.  It  is  simply  a  short  mode  of  finding  the  ag- 
gregate produced  by  a  certain  number  of  repetitions  of 
any  given  quantity. 

The  distinctive  trait  of  multiplication  is  that  both  its 
factors  must  be  plural.  If  both  or  only  one  is  singular 
we  can  have  no  change  or  increase.  Ex. :  1  x  1=1  or 
30x1=30. 

One  of  the  terms  represents  a  force,  mark,  quality 
or  ''  power."  If  it  be  only  a  single  unit  it  is  the  mark 
of  "  one  time  "  or  equality  ;  but  when  both  the  factors 
are  plural  the  full  force,  mark,  quality  or  power  of  the 
one  is  communicated  to  the  other,  so  that  all  the  units 
of  the  one  enter  into  each  of  the  units  of  the  other  ;  so 
that  an  increase  takes  place  in  each  integer  of  the  mul- 
tiplicand equal  to  the  full  value  of  the  multiplier. 

Thus  if  I  multiply  ten  pounds  by  three,  each  of 
the  pounds  becomes  three  pounds,  and  I  have  thirty 
pounds. 

In  logical  multiplication  the  force,  quality,  or  power 
though  not  numerated,  is  imparted  in  precisely  the 
same  manner.    It  must  not  only  be  a  force,  quality. 


188  HUMANICS. 

mark  or  power  as  in  arithmetic,  but  both  factors  must 
be  plural  as  in  arithmetic,  and  the  one  must  be  dis- 
tributed to  all  the  integers  of  the  other — also  as  in 
arithmetic. 

With  this  rule  we  can  never  have  any  difficulty  in 
distinguishing  a  logical  addition  from  a  logical  multi- 
plication. 

Man  +  Man = Men . 

Accordant  Wills  x  Mutual  Promises = Contract. 

Some  factors  appear  to  be  in  the  singular  number, 
but  are  really  plural  and  capable  of  distribution. 
These  are  the  nouns  of  multitude  and  many  "  abso- 
lute "  or  abstract  names.  When  they  are  used  in  logi- 
cal multiplication,  though  one  or  both  of  the  factors 
seem  to  be  in  the  singular,  we  should  not  overlook  the 
plurality  of  their  true  meaning,  the  distribution  intend- 
ed by  the  expression. 

Ex. :   Animal + Reason = Man. 
Animal  x  Eeason=Man. 

In  the  first  of  these  two  examples,  we  mean  to  con- 
sider a  single  individual  endowed  with  reason ;  but  in 
the  second  example,  we  consider  a  whole  class  or  mul- 
titude of  animals,  among  whom,  and  to  each  of  whom, 
reason  is  distributed.  The  sum  in  one  case  is  a  single 
person  ;  the  product  in  the  other  is  all  mankind. 

In  our  mental  presence,  this  principle  should  ever 
be  kept : 


THOUGHT.  189 

Terms  can  he  initltijylied  hy  each  other  only  when 
they  have  a  common  measure^  phenomena^  jprojperty^  or 
law. 

In  arithmetic  tliis  rule  is  constantly  kept  in  view, 
so  that  in  adding  we  must  place  units  under  units,  tens 
under  tens  ;  and  in  multiplying  we  cannot  use  integers 
of  one  denomination  or  standard  as  factors  of  those  of 
another.     Thus  it  is  throughout  the  other  stages. 

A  multiplier  is,  however,  frequently  given  without 
any  appellation  to  mark  it  as  being  of  any  denomination 
or  standard,  though  one  is  always  really  implied.  Take 
this  example :   John  had  4  sacks  of  corn,  but  Tom  had 

3  times  as  many — how  many  had  Tom?      Answer: 

4  sacks  X  3  times=:12  sacks.  It  is  evident  that  three 
times  really  means,  three-thnes-saclcs  /  for  the  product 
is,  sacks ;  and  if  the  number  of  times  had  been  any 
thing  else,  we  w^ould  not  have  known  w^hat  name  to 
give  to  the  product.  Hence,  the  question  would  have 
been  absurd  had  it  been  :  John  had  4  sacks,  but  Tom 
walked  3  times  as  far — what  distance  did  Tom  walk  ? 
Even  jpure  arithmetic  is  possible  for  no  other  reason 
than  that  certain  pre-determined  laws  of  change  are 
imputed  as  common  to  numbers.  If  the  laws  of  change 
are  varied  by  a  new  convention,  the  new  and  the  old 
cannot  be  computed  together,  unless  by  applying  some 
process  of  transmutation.  Thus  a  duodecimal  cannot 
be  multiplied  by  a  decimal  without  reduction. 

Ex.  :   4  dimes  x  3  reals,  how  many  cents  or  reals  ? 
Now,  in  ab-numeral  mathematics  or  logic  the  rule, 


190  HUMANICS. 

though  exactly  the  same,  is  of  more  extensive  applica- 
tion. It  is  always  requisite  that  two  things  be  either, 
I*',  commergdble  into  one  term,  or  2*^,  interdistrihutcible^ 
in  order  that  they  may  be  added  or  multiplied  to- 
gether ;  but  in  general  logic  the  thinker  who  deals  not 
with  a  question  of  precise  numbers  dispenses  with 
arithmetical  notation,  without  however  departing  from 
those  primal  laws  of  thought  according  to  which  num- 
bers themselves  have  been  framed. 

I.  Mergable  into  one  term,  is  essential  for  addition. 

II.  Distributable  into  each  other,  is  essential  for 
multiplication. 

III.  But  in  multiplication,  whether  numeral  or  not, 
this  interdistribution  is  never  possible  unless  the  factors 
contain  some  exchangeable  force  or  property,  common 
necessity  or  law. 

Hence : 

I.  By  addition.  Ex.:  Sheet  of  paper  +  written 
words -h continued  sense +personality  addressed -fper- 
sonality  addressings  a  letter. 

II.  By  multiplication  :  Book  x  repeated  printing 
^Edition. 

HI.  But  if  wo  have  miscellaneous  books  though  we 
might  add  them  together  to  make  a  librar}^,  they  would 
not  be  factors  of  each  other. 

Thus :  w^hen  the  terms  are  not  interdistributable  we 
cannot  proceed  by  multiplication. 


THOUGHT.  191 


SUBTRACTION. 


!N'ow  suppose  that  from  a  ''  Sale,"  I  subtract  the 
price. 

The  operation  and  result  will  be  as  follows  : 
Sale. 
— Price. 
= Donation. 
A  donation  or  gift  contains  all  the  elements  of  a 
sale,  minus  the  price.     A  gift  is  without  price. 

Logical  authors  seem  to  agree,  that  reasoning  may 
be  considered  as  the  putting  of  two  ideas  together ;  and 
comparing  them  to  find  their  relation  to  a  third.  This 
is  only  another  way  of  stating,  that  the  difference  or 
equality  of  two  things  may  be  ascertained  by  means  of 
a  common  standard  or  measure,  or,  in  other  words,  by 
Subtraction. 

In  deduction,  tlie  Syllogism  is  clearly  a  comparison 
of  two  things  stated,  so  as  to  show  that  they  are  both 
identical  with  a  third,  or  that  both  include  the  same 
lesser  term  or  attribute. 

In  induction,  the  laws  of  Elimination  are  mere 
modes  of  comparing  several  phenomena,  so  as  to  iso- 
late or  discover  their  common  and  residual  elements. 

In  Grammar,  the  prefixes  e,  ex,  extra,  ir,  il,  ne, 
UN,  ab  &c.,  import  the  exclusion  of  some  element  from 
a  name. 


192  HUMANICS. 

The  above  and  many  others  which  might  be  men- 
tioned, are  assuredly  examples  of  Subtraction. 


DIVISION. 

Francoeur,  a  mathematical  writer,  says :  ''  In  the 
same  manner  that  multiplication  is  only  the  continued 
addition  of  the  same  number,  we  may  consider  division 
as  a  repeated  subtraction,  the  quotient  marking  how 
often  we  can  take  the  divisor  from  the  dividend." 

This  is  strictly  true,  but  at  the  same  time  he  should 
have  added  :  "  the  quotient  marks  also  the  value  of  one 
of  the  parts  subtracted,  while  the  divisor  marks  how 
many  of  those  part  sare  required  to  make  up  the  divi- 
dend." 

In  numeral  division  and  multiplication,  it  is  essen- 
tial that  the  multiplicand  in  one,  and  the  quotient  in 
the  other,  should  represent  equal  parts  of  a  sum  total ; 
and  it  is  implied  that  each  part  being  repeated  a  certain 
number  of  times  indicated  by  the  multiplier  or  divisor, 
the  sum  total  will  be  produced. 

The  idea  conveyed  by  the  numeral  quotient  is  not 
that  it  is  alone,  nor  all  that  has  been  found,  but  is  one 
of  several ;  and  that  each  of  the  several  are  exactly 
equal  to  the  one  written. 

If  I  divide  12  dollars  among  3  men,  or  12  by  3,  the 
quotient  will  be  4  ;  but  when  I  write  the  figure  4,  I  do 
not  mean  it  as  the  whole  answer.  It  is  implied  that  I 
have  found  three  sums  of  four  dollars  each,  one  of  the 


THOUGHT.  193 

sums  for  each  man.     The  operation  and  quotient  are 
really  this : 

Divisor  3)  12  Dividend. 
1st  Man  4  ) 
2d  Man  4  V  Quotient. 
3d  Man  4  ) 

12 

I^ow,  in  the  division  of  numbers  by  numbers,  we 
take  advantage  of  the  real  or  supposed  equality  in 
amounts  and  of  the  identity  in  names,  to  abbreviate  our 
answer  by  stating  the  quotient  a  single  time. 

This  assumed  equality  is,  however,  very  often,  con- 
trary to  the  real  fact.  If,  for  instance,  instead  of  twelve 
dollars  the  division  had  been  of  twelve  horses,  the 
shares  of  three  horses  each  might  have  been  very  un- 
equal and  grossly  unjust. 

In.  the  division  of  db-mimeral  facts — facts  not  re- 
solvable into  numbers — the  theory  is  the  same ;  but  we 
find  the  abbreviation  impracticable.  "We  find  the  sev- 
eral quantities  of  the  quotient  to  be  variables  bearing 
different  names^  so  that  we  must  write  the  result  in 
detail.  Nevertheless,  each  of  the  terms  of  the  quo- 
tient must  bear  the  impress  of  both  the  divisor  and 
dividend. 

Thus  if  w^e  divide  the  "  Ownership  of  Projjerty  " 
by  ''  Modes  of  Acquisition  "  the  quotient  will  be : 


13 


194  HUMANICS. 

MODES  OF   acquisition)    OWNERSHIP    OF   PROPERTY. 

Mode    1,  by  Prescription. 
"        2,  by  Accession. 
"        3,  by  Gift. 
"       4,  by  Legacy. 
"        5,  by  Inheritance. 
"       6,  by  Wages. 

"  7,  by  Usufructuary  production. 
"       8,  by  Manufacture. 
"        8 J  by  Interest. 

"  10,  by  Damage  recovered. 

"  11.  by  Wager  won. 

"  12',  by  Sale. 

"  13,  by  Exchange. 

"  14,  by  Eents. 

"  15,  by  Treasure  trove. 

"  16,  by  Preoccu]3ancy. 

"  17,  by  Capture. 

"  18,  by  Salvage. 


It  is  now  time  to  remark  that  Division  differs  from 
Subtraction  in  this : 

1.  Division  must  be  exhaustive,  it  must  exhibit  all 
the  elements  of  the  matter  divided ;  but  subtraction, 
after  extracting  a  fact,  or  term,  looks  at  the  remainder. 
Whether  this  remainder,  when  found,  be  a  simple 
unital  fact,  or  term,  or  a  complex  and  divisible  one, 
may  appear  at  once,  or  become  the  subject  of  further 
computation.  Yet  whatever  it  consists  of,  or  whatever 
is  done  with  it,  still  it  represents  only  a  portion  of  the 
subject  first  stated,  and  does  not,  like  the  quotient,  con- 
tain or  imply  all  the  original  matter. 

2.  Division  also  differs  from  subtraction  in  this: 


THOUGHT.  195 

subtraction  may  proceed  to  eliminate  arbitrarily  any  dis- 
tinct or  separable  portion  or  element,  without  regard 
to  the  question,  whether  the  remainder  has  or  has  not 
any  measure  in  common  with  the  portion  deducted — 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  in  division  1°,  the  parts  given 
by  the  quotient  must  all  bear  the  mark  of  the  divisor, 
as  being  their  common  modus,  function,  or  law ;  and 
hence  2'',  the  divisor  cannot  be  arbitrarily  selected, 
but  must  be  phenomena,  property,  or  law  of  the  whole 
dividend. 

All  classifications"  which  do  not  conform  to  these 
laws  of  division,  are  necessarily  wrongly  computed,  or 
mere  enumerations  of  direct  facts.  They  may  be  ar- 
ranged with  more  or  less  skill  in  grouping,  but  are 
wanting  in  the  essentials  of  a  true  and  fruitful  ordina- 
tion. 

Thus,  for  instance,  in  the  French  and  Louisiana 
codes,  1°,  the  contracts  of  Mandate,  Deposit,  and 
Suretyship,  are  set  down  as  modes  of  acquiring 
property ;  2",  several  well-known  modes  are  omitted ; 
and  3°,  acquisition  by  accession  is  placed  under  another 
title. 


REDUCTION. 

In  addition  and  multiplication,  in  subtraction  and 
division,  our  aim  is,  either  to  compute  the  sum  total  of 
several  facts,  or  to  separate  those  sums  into  their  ele 
ments ;  but  when  we  deal  with  several  sum  totals^  if 


196  HUMANICS. 

we  try  to  add  them  together  we  may  find  them,  in  their 
present  form,  not  to  be  homogeneous^  and  thus  to  resist 
our  addition  or  multiplication — while  subtraction  or 
division  would  only  give  us  a  greater  multiplicity  of 
separate  and  incommeasurable  terms. 

Keduction,  or  generalization,  which  enables  us  to 
obtain  a  common  denominator  or  term,  within  which 
our  distinct  sum  totals  may  be  comprised,  is  the  mental 
process  which  overcomes  this  confusion. 

The  reduction  of  compound  numbers,  of  vulgar  and 
decimal  fractions,  &c.,  are  in  numeral  mathematics  the 
types  of  this  mental  process. 

Such  a  reduction  was  performed  by  Franklin, 
agreeably  to  this  type  applied  to  ab-numeral  facts,  when 
he  found  the  common  properties  of  the  flying  clouds 
and  Ley  den  jar. 

By  a  like  process  the  framers  of  the  Civil  Code,  after 
resolving  Sale,  Exchange,  Loan,  Hiring,  Wager,  De- 
posit, &c.,  into  their  elements,  found  them  all  to  contain 
two  essentials :  viz..  Accordant  Wills  and  Mutual 
Promises,  and  to  be  thereby  reducible  to  the  same 
denominator:  Contract.  Hence  the  book  of  Conven- 
tional Obligations  was  deduced  to  set  forth,  under  a 
general  head,  a  vast  number  of  principles  common  to 
all  contracts. 

Reduction  consists  in  finding,  by  enumeration,  and 
the  other  processes,  already  described,  what  phenomena, 
force,  law,  &c.,  separate  facts  have  in  common. 

The  term  which  attaches  to  all  the  facts  taken  in 


THOUGHT.  197 

connection  is  the  common  denominator,  or  the  reduc- 
tion. 

All  thinojs  in  nature  are  interfused  or  interlinked. 
If  it  be  otherwise,  then  each  thing  is  isolated  from 
every  thing  else ;  but  we  know  by  experience  that  such 
isolation  is  not  the  fact.  If  no  connections  nor  inter- 
weaving existed  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  reason ; 
for  reason  is  conversant  only  with  the  agreement  or  disa- 
greement of  things  compared  to  each  other,  or  with  the 
production  of  one  thing  by  another.  Without  points  of 
communion  with  that  which  is  not  itself,  mind  itself 
would  remain  consigned  to  absolute  solitude,  igno- 
rance, and  silence.  Hence,  since  there  are  conformities 
and  contrasts  inter-distributed  among  all  things,  and 
since  something  in  common  is  implied  by  this  accord 
and  interpenetration,  it  is  this  common  something, 
whether  Phenomena,  Forces  or  Laws,  w^hich  forms  the 
ground-work  of  all  reductions ;  and  thus  the  elements  of 
a  possible  reduction  to  some  common  measure  is  con- 
tained in  the  things  themselves. 

It  remains  to  be. seen  how  these  elements  are  to  be 
detected. 

In  pure  mathematics,  these  elements  are  given  be- 
forehand by  definition.  The  definition  and  consequent 
axioms  are  the  facts  and  laws  of  the  case.  Definitions = 
facts.  Axioms  =:laws.  Every  term  in  pure  mathemat- 
ics has  a  precise  sense  and  value  positively  fixed  at  the 
beginning,  so  that  nothing  remains  but  to  reason  upon 
the  given,  precise,  and  certain  data  ;  and  by  combining 


198  HUMANICS. 

them,  to  develop  the  successive  phases  through  which, 
agreeably  to  the  original  definitions,  they  may  be  car- 
ried. 

In  concrete  mathematics  the  initial  step  is  not  so 
easy.  Real  quantities  must  be  first  found  as  direct 
facts.  It  is  only  when  immediate  sensation  or  enu- 
meration has  furnished  two  or  more  of  these  facts,  as 
stated  terms,  that  a  process  of  computation  may  begin 
and  progress.  Yet  we  operate  with  the  real  quantities 
in  the  same  way  as  with  the  assumed  and  abstract. 
The  type  is  in  our  mental  nature  itself;  there  is  an  in- 
nate rule,  and  we  must  conform  to  it,  even  after  we  have 
left  the  ideal  and  nominal  for  the  real  and  denominate. 

Thus  no  sooner  was  the  decimal  scale  arbitrarily  as- 
sumed, than  it  became  subjected  to  the  typical  forms 
of  addition,  subtraction,  multiplication,  division,  reduc- 
tion, and  ratio  pre-existing  in  the  mind  ;  and  thus,  too, 
when  no  real  concrete  units  exist  they  are  created  by 
virtue  of  the  same  innate  laws  :  Space  is  cut  up  into 
leagues,  miles,  &c.,  and  Time  is  severed  into  hours, 
minutes ;  and  thus,  too,  so  absolute  and  immutable 
are  the  laws  of  thought,  that  when  the  necessary  ele- 
ments of  an  argument  are  not  apparent  in  the  object 
thought  of,  they  are  artificially  collocated  with  it,  and 
standards  purely  conventional  are  made  to  serve  the 
purposes  of  the  thinker ;  but  they  serve  that  purpose 
because,  at  the  same  time,  they  are  themselves  mould- 
ed into  the  sole  matrix  of  thought  nature  has  herself 
deposited  within  the  mind  oU  man. 


THOUGHT.  199 

Hence,  it  is  not  to  be  imagined  that  tliese  laws  of 
numbers  do  not  also  prevail  in  ab-nnmeral  mathe- 
matics or  general  logic. 

To  make  a  generalization  or  reduction  the  operation 
is  always  the  same,  whether  we  deal  with  numerals  or 
with  non-numerated  terms,  facts,  or  symbols. 

First,  the  facts  must  be  furnished  by  direct  enu- 
meration, aided  by  subtraction  and  division ;  and 
secondly,  search  must  be  made  throughout  these  facts 
for  their  common  divisor. 

The  process  of  finding  this  common  divisor  begins, 
even  in  arithmetic  by  experiment^  guided  by  our  knowl- 
edge of  certain  pre-ascertained  properties  of  numbers. 
Each  of  the  several  items  are  separately  tried  by  every 
prime  number  which  may  divide  them  without  a  re- 
mainder, and  then  the  different  sets  of  prime  quotients 
are  compared  to  see  if  there  is  any  common  to  all  the 
sets. 

In  the  reduction  or  generalization  of  non-numerated 
facts  and  names,  the  process  is  the  same. 

1°.  The  facts  or  names  are  enumerated  or  stated. 

2"^.  They  are  tried  or  tested  by  separate  divisions  to 
make  them  disclose  their  common  divisor. 

Z^.  When  all  the  members  of  a  set  of  terms  are 
found  to  be  divisible,  each  by  one-same  term,  a  ke- 
DUCTioN  is  accomplished. 

Eeferring  to  what  has  been  said  under  the  head  of 
multiplication  on  the  subject  of  inter-distribution  of 


200  HUMANICS. 

factors,  I  proceed  in  addition  to  call  attention  to  the 
fact  of  correspondence  between  multiplication  and  di- 
vision.    This  correspondence  is  well  known  to  be  this  : 

Dividend  with  Product. 

Divisor  with  Multiplier. 

Quotient  with  Multiplicand. 
So  that,  since  the  divisor  and  multiplier  are  similar 
in  principle,  and  may  exchange  functions — since  one 
of  the  main  objects  of  ab-numeral  reduction  is  to  find 
common  forces  and  generic  laws — and  since  two  terms 
cannot  be  factors  of  each  other  unless  they  have  prop- 
erties in  common,  or  unless  there  exist  between  them 
some  law  of  mutual  adaptation — it  is  evident,  that  mul- 
tiplication may  be  as  good  a  trier  as  division  ;  and  that 
should  wx  find  a  single  factor  with  this  common  adapta- 
tion, &c.,  to  each  and  all  of  a  set  of  several  terms,  it 
will  disclose  either. 

1.  K  common  divisor  j  or 

2.  The  general  law  wdiich  governs  all  the  terms. 
This  last  result  is  by  far  the  most  desirable  ;  for  a 

general  law  is  a  light  to  the  eye  of  thought,  and 
enables  the  mind  from  a  single  glance  or  point  of  view? 
to  understand  a  multiplicity  of  Phenomena. 

It  is  by  means  of  the  process  of  reduction  that  many 
laws,  once  scattered,  when  found  all  bearing  the  char- 
acteristic of  prohibition  against  the  violation  of  right 
through  fraud  or  force,  were  placed  under  the  head  of 
Criminal  Laws.      It  is  by  the  same  process,  repeated 


THOUGHT.  201 

upon  all  the  laws,  that  we  have  found  common  denomi- 
nators for  a  till-then-confused  mass  of  other  laws.  Thus 
the  whole  law  is  now  classified  as  follows  : 

Constitutional. 

International. 

Administrative. 

Civil. 

Commercial. 

Maritime. 

Martial. 

Ecclesiastical. 

Local. 

Private. 

l^enal. 

Justicial,  (or  Procedure.) 

Each  category  of  facts  possesses  within  itself  the 
properties  of  its  reductibility. 

All  common  nouns  are  examples  of  reduction. 

EATIO. 

We  have  now  reached  the  last  step  in  the  process 
of  thought — the  point  of  progress  from  whence  philoso- 
phy is  evolved. 

Philosophy  seeks  universal  truths — truths  which 
pervade  all  other  truths — which  enter  into  the  others 
as  attraction  enters  and  controls  every  material  thing. 
This  movement  and  aim  of  philosophy  is  dictated  and 
moved  by  the  intellectual  faculty  of  knowing  and  com- 
puting Ratio, 

Patio  is  the  property  of  the  intellect  which  is  con- 
scious of  proportion.     Patio  is  the  mental  act  which 


202  HUMANICS. 

computes  the  laws  of  gradation^  beginning  at  the 
mathematical  point,  and  spreading  in  wave-circles  of 
regular  progression  till  lost  in  the  infinite. 

Addition  and  Subtraction  detects  mere  sums  and 
differences ;  but  Ratio  detects  reseniblanoes  hetween  dif- 
ferences whether  of  sums  or  remainders. 

Multiplication,  Division,  and  Eeduction  find  single 
results  of  combination,  partition,  and  adaptation  ;  but 
Eatio  finds  a  series. 

Ratio  compares  Products  with  Products,  Quotients 
with  Quotients,  to  find  a  fourth  term,  or  a  scale  of  har- 
monies and  differences  ;  and  thence  through  accords  of 
common  denominators,  progresses  to  exhaust  the  finite 
and  frame  an  index  to  the  infinite. 

In  numerical  science  Ratio  gives  us  the  laws  of 
arithmetical  and  geometrical  progression,  roots,  pow- 
ers, rule  of  three,  proportion,  &c. 

In  physical  science  perfect  models  of  Ratio  are 
afforded  by  the  works  of  E'ewton  and  Dal  ton. 

"A  proportion  is  a  comparison  between  two  equal 
ratios." 

^'  Every  katio  is  divided  into  two  terms  :  the  first 
is  called  the  antecedent^  and  the  second  the  consequent^ 
and  the  two,  taken  together,  are  called  a  coitjplet.  The 
antecedent  is  regarded  as  the  standard^ 

"  Every  pkopoktion  is  composed  of  two  equal  ratios ; 
and  the  1st  and  4:th  terms  of  a  proportion  are  called  the 
extremes :  the  2d  and  3d  terms  of  the  proportion  are 
called  the  ineansP 


THOUGHT. 


203 


A  PROPORTION". 


Ratio  or  Couplet 


Ratio  or  Couplet 


1st  term 


2(1  term 


3d  term 


4tli  term 


antecedent 


consequent 

means 


antecedent 


Individuals 


Families 


NeigHborhoods 


consequent 


Villages 


extremes 

''  In  every  proportion  the  product  of  tlie  extremes 
is  equal  to  the  product  of  the  means."  And  in  every 
proportion,  the  4th  term  is  equal  to  the  jDroduct  of  the 
2d  and  3d  terms,  divided  by  the  1st.     Example  : 

Individuals  :  Families  : :  Neighborhoods  :  x 

Families 
multiplied  by  NeigTiborlioods 


=Man7  Families  of  Neighborhoods 
Divided  into  unities  or  individuals,  thus  : 

Individuals  \  Maxt  Families  of  N'eighborhoods 
=yillage  or  Villages 

viz.  :  a  unit,  a  Sum,  single  collection  or  assemblage 
of  Families,  of  I^eighborhoods  ;  OTy  several  units,  or 
sums  of  Families  of  Neighborhoods. 

It  remains  to  be  decided  whether  the  4th  term  found 
is  singular  or  plural. 


204  HUMANICS. 

This  can  be  determined  by  the  laws  which  regulate 
proportion  or  ratio,  viz. :  the  Ratios  must  he  equal ;  and 
in  every  proportion  the  two  couplets  must  increase  or 
decrease,  directly  or  inversely,  alike — so  that  when  the 
proportion  is  direct,  their  ratio  is  always  the  same,  and 
when  inverse,  their  product  is  always  the  same. 

I^ow  in  the  above  example  the  consequent  of  the 
first  couplets  or  ratio  increases  directly :  plurally  to  a 
plural  antecedent  or  standard ;  and  so  (according  to  the 
rule)  the  consequent  of  the  other  ratio  must  be  plural 
also.     Hence — 

Individuals  :  Families  : :  Neighborhoods  :  Villages. 

If  the  first  consequent  had  been  singular,  it  is  plain 
the  second  would  have  been  of  the  same  grammatical 
number. 

Individuals  :  Family  : :  Neighborhoods  :    Village. 

Referring  to  the  elementary  text-books  on  arithmetic 
for  the  laws  of  Arithmetical  and  Geometrical  Progres- 
sion. I  have  only  to  add  that  these  laios  are  in  force 
among  ab-numerals,  as  well  as  numerals.  In  every 
science  things  or  facts  are  found  to  exist  in  series  (wheth- 
er of  equidifferences  or  ratios)  of  progression.  A  little 
investigation  will  be  apparent  to  every  one ;  and  there- 
fore I  content  myself  with  a  couple  of  instances. 


THOUGHT. 


205 


V.  Example :  Arititmetical  Peogression. 


HOMICIDE. 


Peepeteatoe  acting 


o 
to  <o 


Cruelly 

Corruptly- 


-^ 


Surreptitiously — <^ 

Prepensively 

Maliciously  — 
Voluntarily  • 


ft 


ft 


4) 


3    ^ 

^     bD 
ft 


-^ 


bp  ^ 

be  <M 


c3 


Involuntarily  — 
Fortuitously 


C     03 

— ^ 


Defensively 

Compulsively- 


-i 


-W 


Victim  was 


Vanquished 

Eig-lit-enjoyiug 

Confiding 

Innocent 

Peaceful 

Combative 

OP 

Eeckless 

Imprudent 

Homicidal 

-i-t) 

Criminal 

2"".  Example  :  Geometrical  Progression. 
Let  us  take  the  series  familiar  to  political  economy 

Labor  x  Labor=Prodiiction 
Production  x  Production = Exchange 
Exchange  x  Exchange = Commerce 
Commerce  x  Commerce = Distribution 
Distribution  x  Distribution  =  Consumption 
Consumption  x  Consumption = Demand 
Demand  x  Demand = Labor. 


The  result  is  a  circulating  series  of  ab-nuraerals,  in 
which  the  same  terms  return  ad  infinitum ;  but  dispens- 
ing with  the  difficulties  which  might  be  suggested  by 
this  illustration,  here  is  another  of  plainer  construction  : 


206  HUMANICS. 

Individuals : 
:  Families : 

:  Associations : 


:  Villages  or  Communes  : 
:  Cities  or  Townships 
:  Shires : 

:  Provinces : 
Nations. 


The  progression  of  these  things  in  multiplying  or 
geometrical  ratio  is  positively  certain,  yet  it  is  also 
impossible  to  apply  any  numeration  to  the  terms,  or  to 
frame  for  them  a  table  of  determinate  values. 

We  have  now  noted  the  primary  acts  sufficiently  to 
be  prepared  to  turn  our  attention  to  the  operation  of 
the  properties,  and  process  of  thought  upon  its  contents  : 
viz.,  upon 

PHENOMENA. 

Were  the  human  mind  limited  to  simple  conscious- 
ness of  sensation  and  emotion — were  it  left  unaided  by 
numeration,  it  would,  I  contend,  (and  hope  to  show,) 
have  contented  itself  with  objective  nature  in  its  direct 
and  unanalyzed  aspect  and  power.  But  our  mind  does 
not  stop  at  the  immediate  deliverings  and  memories 
due  to  direct  sensation.  Our  mind  is  capable  of  sub- 
jective deliverings  and  memories,  which  react  as  it 
were  upon  consciousness,  and  cast  its  contents  into  a 
measured  or  formal  matrix  and  fashioner. 

Apart  from  number  and  its  postulate  measure,  sup- 


THOUGHT.  207 

pose  we  were  to  consider  nature  as  presenting  phenom- 
ena only — phenomena  which  could  be,  as  proposed  by 
the  idealists,  considered  "  in  themselves,"  or  "  absolute- 
ly." They  would  then  remain,  for  us,  as  indeterminate 
and  irrational  qualities  and  powers,  as  mere  changes  of 
chaos,  tossing  us  about,  uj)on  its  accidental  and  conflict- 
ing movements. 

But  the  human  mind  must  do  itself  violence,  to 
place  itself,  even  for  an  instant,  in  a  condition  to  con- 
sider nature  in  this  aspect — an  aspect  familiar  to  the 
brutes,  who  have  no  concern  with  nature  but  to  feel  and 
obey  its  direct  action  upon  their  organism. 

While  the  brutes  are  conscious  of  nature  only  as  a 
moving  panorama,  of  irreducible  and  absolute  attrac- 
tions and  repulsions,  pleasing  and  displeasing  influ- 
ences, we  at  the  same  time  ideate  nature,  and  all  its 
qualities  and  powers,  as  simultaneously  and  continuously 
answering  those  quantitative  notions  known  as  time  and 
space,  force  and  law. 

The  world  oipure  quality  and  impression,  or  as  the 
metaphysicians  express  it,  the  world  of  the  absolute  and 
unconditioned,  is  the  world  abstracted  from  all  our 
ideas  of  thinkable  quantity,  all  concept  of  numeration 
and  mensuration  ;  and  is  therefore  the  world  of  the 
brute. 

In  their  efforts  to  imagine  nature  from  this  point  of 
view,  the  idealists  have  deluded  themselves  into  a  be- 
lief of  success  ;  but  they  have  unconsciously  allowed, 
for  it  was  impossible  to  prevent  it,  the  concept  of  the 


208  HUMANICS. 

unit  to  impose  itself  upon  their  meditations  ;  and  made 
tliem  produce  extensiA'e  entities,  wliicli  they  defined 
and  named  as  vaguely  as  possible. 

If  by  an  effort  of  thought  we  consider  quality  ''  in 
itself,"  apart  from  all  relative  ideas — if  we  take  each 
quality  as  wholly  disconnected  and  isolated,  we  may 
fairly  admit  the  existence  of  Substance,  Gravitation, 
Heat,  Light,  Electricity,  the  existence  of  Colors,  Sounds, 
Tastes,  Odors,  and  Feels,  severally — the  existence  of 
Hunger,  Thirst,  Excretive-habitude,  Genital-desire,  and 
Motor- vitality — as  facts.  That  they  are^  is  all  that 
consciousness,  unaided  by  the  conception  of  quantity, 
can  feel ;  but  consciousness  without  quantity  could  not 
even  (as  I  have  just  done)  pronounce  or  articulate  the 
fact  of  this  existence ;  for  they  must  be  conceived  as 
distinct  units  before  language  can  name  them ;  every 
noun  being  a  unit  or  sum.  Hence  the  brutes  having 
only  the  "  pure,"  the  "  absolute,"  the  "  unconditioned  " 
idea  of  fact,  and  being  incapable  of  ideating  the  unit, 
have  no  language  but  that  of  interjections  ;  and  express 
the  state  of  their  consciousness  by  simple  emotional 
cries  and  notions,  onl}^  "Without  the  mechanism  of 
instinct  to  move  them,  they  would  be  lost  in  the  midst 
of  nature,  as  in  chaos. 

Thus  all  we  can  say  of  Phenomena  in  themselves,  is 
that  they  constitute  the  world  of  existent  and  unrational- 
\zQdi  fact. 

Phenomenon  in  itself  is  "exra-tio^mie  fact. 


THOUGHT.  209 

But  human  language  does  not  afford  terms  and 
phrases  to  discourse  intelligibly  of  the  absolute  or  supra 
quantitative.  Let  us  therefore  hasten  to  take  up  the 
subject  of  time  and  space,  force  and  law. 


TIME  AND  SPACE. 

For  the  human  mind  there  is  no  sucli  thing  as 
ab-quantitative  phenomena.  The  archeus  or  primary 
principle  of  thought,  works  with  constant  diligence 
throughout  human  consciousness,  in  disclosing  the  quan- 
titative elements  of  the  cosmos. .  Hence  we  may  set  it 
down  as  a  direct  and  immediate  fact,  that  we  are  con- 
scious of  nothing,  otherwise  than  as  being  contained 
in  time  and  in  space ;  or,  in  other  words,  as  having 
limit  or  measure.  Every  definition  of  a  word,  thing, 
or  idea,  is  the  statement  of  its  components  or  parts,  and 
therefore  of  limits  and  extension,  affirmatively  or  neg- 
atively. Even  the  idea  of  God  becomes  pantheistic, 
that  is  to  say  null,  unless  we  separate  it  from  phenome- 
na, limit  it  by  excluding  all  materiality,  and  thus 
distinguish  God  himself  from  those  manifestations  of 
his  own  creative  omnipotence  we  behold  in  the  uni- 
verse. 

Infinite  time  and  space  are  no  doubt  existent,  but  to 
imagine  them  we  must  begin  by  a  unit  of  one  or  the 
other ;  and  after  convincing  ourselves  that  there  is  no 
end,  no  boundary  to  arithmetical  or  geometrical  pro- 
gression, we  stop  at  last,  with  the  certainty  that  there 
14 


210  HUMANICS. 

could  not  have  been  a  time  when  there  was  no  time, 
nor  can  there  be  a  space  where  there  is  no  space. 

Most  of  the  philosophers  who  have  sought  for  the 
primary  ideas  of  the  human  mind,  begin  with  Space  and 
Time ;  and  think  in  doing  so  that  they  start  from  the 
deepest  core  of  thought.  [N'umber  is  treated  as  a  mere 
auxiliary ;  and  yet  in  spite  of  all  attempts  to  assume 
ideas  of  time  and  space,  as  the  beginning  and  basis  of 
thought,  number  constantly  obtrudes  itself  and  takes 
her  precedence,  though  the  philosopher  may  be  uncon- 
scious that  such  is  the  case.  This  is  apparent  in  the 
works  of  Kant  and  Whesvell,  who  begin  with  Space 
and  Time,  and  do  not  j)erceive  that  number  stands 
first ;  that  space  and  time  are  undefinable,  are  nothing, 
without  the  precedent  idea  of  number  to  give  value 
and  proportion  to  time,  quantity,  and  dimension  to 
space.  Space  or  time,  placed  before  the  primary  idea 
of  the  unit,  are  utterly  null  and  unthinkable.  Hence 
the  obscurity  and  contradictions  of  Kant,  all  due  to  his 
impossible  germ-point :  space,  independent  of  number, 
and  without  an  idea  of  units  of  measure.  Yet  it  is 
strange  to  see  how  often  he  steps  over  the  true  ground, 
without  being  conscious  of  standing  upon  the  pivot 
around  which  all  thought  revolves,  and  from  which  all 
thought  proceeds. 

The  process  of  mind  which  thus  adduces  all  phenom- 
ena as  limited  units,  and  as  contained  in  time  and  in 


THOUGHT.  211 

space,  displays  itself  in  tlie  act  of  forming  ration c?. 
IMAGES  of  the  contents  of  consciousness ;  and  we  may 
call  it — 

IDEATION. 

Regarded  as  a  faculty,  in  its  undefined  sense,  it  is 
known  as  "  ideality,"  and  its  work  as  that  of  "  imagina- 
tion; "  but  its  functions  are  much  more  important  and 
precise  than  the  meaning  of  these  names  would  imply. 
It  is  the  arena  on  which  all  the  battles  of  the  idealists 
and  presentationists  have  been  fought ;  battles  in  which 
at  every  moment  the  combatants  seem  to  forget  that 
they  have  any  organs  of  sense,  but  those  of  sight. 
Ideation  not  only  produces  the  flowers  of  romance  and 
poesy,  but  it  is  the  field  wherein  doth  grow  those 
sciences  which  are  concerned  with  time  and  space ; 
and  particularly  it  is  the  field  of  Geology  and  Geome- 

try. 

Indeed,  the  functions  of  our  faculty  of  Ideation  are 
used  in  every  science ;  for  no  science  can  dispense  with 
considerations  of  time  and  space;  and  no  appliance 
of  science  to  art^  can  take  place  without  its  aid. 

Do  we  not  all,  when  any  statement  or  thought  which 
may  be  figured  or  located,  immediately  draw  a  mental 
sketch  ?  Do  we  not  give  each  thing  or  fact  its  proper 
room  and  shape  in  an  ideal  picture?  Do  we  not  trace 
in  this  picture  the  course  and  scope  of  every  law,  force, 
and  motion ;  and  assign  a  time  and  place  for  every 
quality  or  property  ?    Few  will  deny  the  fact.     How- 


212  HUMANICS. 

ever  vague  tlie  lines,  however  undetermined  their 
length  and  course  ;  yet  they  assuredly  make  up  an  im- 
age, fixed  or  changeahle,  definite  or  obscure,  of  spaces, 
places,  forms,  limits,  &c.  The  lawyer  who  discusses 
circumstantial  evidence,  the  sociologist  who  studies  the 
evolution  of  human  progress,  the  chemist  who  seeks 
the  elements  of  matter,  the  philosopher  who  analyzes 
the  movement  of  mind,  all  naturally  give  their  thoughts 
a  frame-work  and  body-form  in  sjpace. 

Every  syllabus,  synopsis,  table  of  contents,  e^c, 
having  the  least  pretence  to  logical  arrangement,  placed 
at  the  head  or  end  of  any  work,  is  nothing  but  a  local- 
ization and  arrangement  in  space  and  time  of  the  writ- 
er's thoughts  :  an  outline  of  the  image  formed,  a  map 
of  distribution.  Blackstone  gives  an  admirable  exam- 
ple of  one  of  these  at  the  beginning  of  each  of  his  vol- 
umes. The  best  system  of  mnemonics  known  in  our 
day,  yet  as  old  as  Cicero,  is  the  system  of  localization, 
in  the  shape  of  appropriate  symbols. 

When  we  think  of  any  event  or  thing,  or  even  draw 
inferences  from  one  state  of  facts  to  another,  do  we  not 
put  successive  images  before  the  TuincTs  eye^  thus  as  it 
were  to  see  whether  the  visions  the  mind  evokes  are 
geometrically  adapted  or  concurrent,  and  do  not  ob- 
struct or  exclude  one  another.  Even  the  course  of  time 
is  subjected  to  this  delineation  in  space  ;  and  historians 
depict  on  paper,  as  rivers,  the  parallel  and  commingling 
vicissitudes  of  empires. 

Errors  in  the  process  of  ideation,  whether  in  Philoso- 


THOUGHT.  213 

phy  or  Ethics,  physical  science  or  concrete  art, — errors 
such  as  mismeasnrement  of  distances,  misdirection  of 
lines,  misplacement  of  contents,  misdrawing  of  figures, 
non detection  of  discrepancies,  will  mar  the  truth  and 
deceive  the  judgment.  In  fact,  the  judgment  we  form 
is  itself  an  image — fictitious,  imperfect,  or  faithful. 

For  instance,  suppose  we  behold  a  dead  body,  with 
a  death-wound  upon  it :  thought  at  once  conjures  up  a 
terrible  scene  of  mishap  or  of  murder.  As  the  circum- 
stances become  known,  now  one  then  another,  new 
tableaux  arise,  with  increasing  distinctness,  till  one 
plain  and  certain  drama  appears  to  the  mind.  Till  this 
is  done  we  waver  in  doubt  and  fix  no  opinion. 

The  scene  beheld  by  the  physical  eye  is  the  dis- 
closure of  perception — it  is  direct  fact ;  but  this  imme- 
diate image  is  only  one  of  a  series  of  other  tableaux 
which  present  themselves  to  the  mental  eye.  We  know 
that  as  there  is  a  present  reality,  so  there  must  be  pre- 
cedent and  subsequent  realities,  at  times,  in  places, 
and  hy  forces.  Thus  the  known  evinces  the  unknown. 
The  body,  the  wound,  the  knife,  lying  now  here  and 
thus,  are  not  limitable  to  this  moment,  this  spot,  or  to 
this  condition ;  but  (as  subject  to  many  forces  and  laws, 
in  successive  times  and  different  places)  have  been  and 
w^ill  be  figures  in  other  events  and  phenomena.  Cer- 
tain marks  in  the  present  state  of  things  are  recognized 
as  the  traces  of  antecedent  or  the  omens  of  future  forces, 
places,  and  times  ;  and  thus  suggest  the  previous  and 
posterior  phenomena. 


214  HUMANICS. 

The  assassin  plunging  Lis  weapon  into  the  victim's 
side — the  struggle  which  preceded  the  blow — the  at- 
tack which  preceded  the  struggle — the  resolve  which 
preceded  the  attack — the  motive  which  preceded  the 
resolve,  &c.  Or  subsequently,  we  foresee  and  imag- 
ine the  assassin's  arrest,  his  trial,  execution,  &c. 

If  we  consider  this  course  of  thought  merely  as  a 
series  of  inductions  and  deductions,  our  conception  of 
what  has  taken  place  is  imperfect ;  for  the  terms  induc- 
tion, deduction,  inference,  are  inadequate  to  the  enun- 
ciation of  the  whole  fact.  Something  would  remain 
unexpressed,  and  that  is  the  formation  of  the  images — 
images  evoked  in  phases — images  mentally  seen — im- 
ages distinct  in  space,  time,  and  movement,  as  a  drama 
with  its  scenery,  impassioned  actors,  and  successive 
events. 

In  the  same  way  when  we  behold  any  object,  though 
we  see  only  one  of  its  sides,  we  mentally  image  the 
others ;  and  in  fact  we  cannot  have  any  satisfactory 
idea  of  the  object  (whether  it  be  a  building,  a  tree,  an 
animal,  or  any  thing  else)  till  we  have  formed  a  complete 
image  (however  true  or  false  the  mental  picture  may 
be)  of  the  unseen  parts. 

Thus  it  may  be  safely  said,  that  tliought  is  the  intel- 
lectual forination  of  images  of  the  unknown  and  imper- 
cewed. 

Mensuration  more  or  less  determinate — 
Enumeration,  numeral  or  ab-numeral — 


THOUGHT.  215 

are  acts  of  tlionglit,  primarily  necessary  in  the  forma- 
tion images  of  the  unseen,  .  .  .  past,  present,  or  future. 

1.  That  this  necessity  of  mensuration  exists,  is  appar- 
ent from  the  fact  that  these  images  involve  form,  place, 
order,  adaptation,  t^c. ;  and  that  to  compose  a  picture 
due  regard  must  be  had  to  size,  distance,  perspective, 
proportion,  <fcc.,  in  all  the  figures  and  scenery.  Hence, 
ideation  is  innate  geometry. 

2.  That  this  necessity  of  enumeration  exists,  is  ap- 
parent from  the  fact  that  mensuration  or  geometry  is 
impossible  without  number  and  its  modes  :  id  est^  units, 
addition,  subtraction,  reduction,  ratio.  Measure  relies 
upon  number.  Hence,  the  distrihuter  and  framer  of 
"  image  "  is  Arithnietic. 

So,  it  is  doubtless  already  perceived,  that  the  laws 
and  methods  of  number  and  measure,  operate  in  idea- 
tion as  in  every  other  process  of  the  mind.  Were  it 
otherwise  the  images  would  be  all  disorder — they  would 
be  even  more  confused  and  incongruous  than  our  wild- 
est dreams  /  for  in  our  most  absurd  dreams,  there  are 
some  traces  of  connection  and  adaptation  of  times, 
places,  forces,  &c.  Without  the  processes  of  number 
and  measure,  all  would  be  chaos ;  but  by  means  of 
number  and  measure,  a  due  succession  and  fitness  arises. 
Indeed,  the  test  of  the  rationality  of  each  image,  is  its 
being  possible  to  jplace  it  and  all  its  parts,  without  dis- 
turbing the  other  pictures  of  the  series,  to  time  it  with- 
out anachronism  in  the  succession  of  events,  to  e^'olce 


216  HUMANICS. 

it  as  the  effect  or  resultant  of  sufficient  forces  and  laws. 
The  existence  of  these  possibilities  we  ascertain  by 
number  and  measure.  We  count  the  hours,  &c.,  we 
measure  the  distances,  &c.,  we  commute  powers,  physi- 
cal and  moral,  which  act  and  react;  and  compose  the 
image,  placing  its  personages  and  movements  in  con- 
formity with  the  requirements  of  apjylied  mathematics. 
"When  the  measures  are  found  proportionate  or  coinci- 
dent, when  the  forces  are  ascertained  to  be  adequate, 
and  when  the  numbers  of  the  measures  and  the  forces 
are  found  harmonious  and  orderly  among  themselves 
and  the  surrounding  facts,  the  image  is  a  true  one. 

For  example,  a  man  is  accused  of  murder.  The 
time  and  place  of  the  homicide  are  made  certain.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  presence  of  the  accused  in  another 
place,  l)ut  at  another  time,  is  made  equally  certain. 
Now,  the  measurement  or  counting  of  distance,  time, 
and  motion,  enables  us  to  find  whether  it  was  jDOssible 
for  the  man,  wath  his  strength,  &c.,  to  j)ass  over  the 
intervening  space  in  the  intervening  time,  so  as  to  have 
been  present  at  the  homicide.  If  the  computation  gives 
TTiimis,  an  alibi  is  proved  ;  and  no  image  showing  the 
accused  in  the  scene  of  murder,  can  be  framed  without 
disturbing  the  truthful  image  of  his  presence  elsewhere  ; 
but,  if  the  computation  gives  plus  (  id  est,  time,  space, 
and  force  to  spare)  the  two  images  may  co-exist  with- 
out interference  or  anachronism. 

In  the  preceding  example  it  is  self-evident  that 


THOUGHT.  217 

Arithmetic  furnishes  the  mode  of  reasoning  on  the 
question  of  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  the  person  ac- 
cused ;  but  there  are  cases  where  the  arithmetical  pro- 
cess is  not  so  apparent,  though  equalty  active.  For 
example :  take  the  homicide  of  *  *  '^'.  He  was  killed 
bj  a  gunshot.  Near  his  body  was  found  a  piece  of 
paper — the  fragment  of  a  letter — which  had  served  as 
the  wadding  of  a  gun.  Afterwards  the  remnant  of  a 
torn  letter  was  found  on  the  person  of  the  man  sus- 
pected of  the  murder.  The  two  pieces  of  paper  were 
placed  together,  and  not  only  the  tearing,  but  the  writ- 
ing of  the  two  pieces  were  found  correspondent  and 
adapted. 

The  question  in  this  case  being  one  of  fonn^  is 
therefore  of  Geometr3\  The  adaptation  of  the  two 
pieces  to  each  other,  shown  when  juxtaposited,  is  the 
demonstration  "  by  application."  It  is  here  direct  and 
practical ;  but  the  principle  is  the  same  as  that  used  to 
prove  "  by  application"  that  the  diameter  divides  a 
circle  into  two  equal  parts.  [Prof.  I.  Davies'  Legen- 
dre.]  The  two  pieces  would  not  answer  the  definition 
of  one  letter,  if  they  could  not  be  co-adapted. 

Let  it  not,  however,  be  assumed  that  arithmetical 
ideas  and  processes  can  be  excluded  in  the  rationale  of 
this  case.  The  total  absence  of  numbers  might  create 
this  impression  ;  but  a  moment's  consideration  will 
show  that  in  this  instance  (as  in  every  act  of  reason- 
ing) Arithmetic  furnishes  the  rule  of  ratiocination. 
The  operation  of  putting  the  two  pieces  together  was 


218  HUMANICS. 

a  practical  or  tangible  addition  of  fractions  of  the 
same  denominator.  The  two  "  pieces "  were  ab-nu- 
meral ;  but  nevertheless  they  were  the  numerators  of 
fractions,  of  which  "  a  letter  "  was  the  common  denom- 
inator, and  as  really  so  as  if  they  (the  numerators)  had 
been  expressed  in  numbers.  If  it  had  been  found  im- 
practicable to  unite  (add)  them  together,  the  conclusion 
would  have  been  (according  to  arithmetical  rules)  that 
they  were  not  of  the  same  denominator. 

The  subject  of  Time  and  Space,  necessarily  calls  our 
attention  to  the  science  of  measurement. 


GEOMETKY. 

The  idea  of  Measure  imposes  itself  in  all  our  no- 
tions of  Space,  Time,  Law,  Force,  and  Phenomena. 
These  cannot  be  conceived  apart  from  measure.  "  Ab- 
solute Space  and  Time"  are  often  spoken  of,  but  I 
doubt  the  ability  of  any  man  to  form  a  clear  concep- 
tion of  the  reality  sought  to  be  represented  by  the 
words.  As  Hamilton  has  it,  absolute  space  and  time 
are  "  unthinkable."  We  might  as  well  try  to  think  of 
a  rainbow  without  colors,  as  of  time  and  space  without 
measure.  As  to  "  infinite  "  space,  time,  or  force,  it  is 
only  thinkable  as  the  boundless,  or  endless,  or  everlast- 
ing repetition  of  measures  of  extension,  duration,  or 
motion.  To  convey  our  ideas  of  infinity,  eternity,  or 
omnipotence,  we  are  obliged  firstly  to  state  units  of 


THOUGHT.  219 

space,  time,  or  force,  and  secondly  to  imagine  an  un- 
limited repetition,  proceeding  from  ''  the  wliere^^  at 
which  we  are  placed  in  all  directions,  or  from  "  the 
when^''  into  the  past,  without  finding  a  beginning,  and 
into  the  future,  without  reaching  an  end,  or  from  "  the 
whij^''  "  the  how^''  and  "  the  what^^  into  the  power, 
wisdom,  and  will  of  God. 

Hence  the  first  concern  of  Geometry  is  to  give,  by 
means  of  definitions,  certain  units  of  form  and  exten- 
sion, square,  triangle,  circle,  cube,  cone,  sphere  ;  and 
to  fix.  the  relative  values  of  these  units,  and  of  their 
several  elements.  The  units  once  fixed,  are  used  in 
computing  the  abstract  sums,  difi'erences,  and  ratios  of 
one  element  of  a  figure  with  regard  to  another  ele- 
ment, and  one  figure  with  regard  to  another  figure  ; 
and  though  this  be  done,  a  jj^raGtical  application  will 
also  require  the  numerals  of  arithmetic,  thus  proving 
that  the  rational  formula  of  geometry  is  in  reality  the 
arithmetical  formula. 

Indeed  Geometry,  though  apparently  ab-numeral, 
employs  the  symbols  of  arithmetic.  These  symbols, 
-f,  — ,  X,  -^,  :,>,<,=:,  &c.,  are  of  constant  and 
necessary  use  in  geometry — yea,  even  in  abstract  and 
ab-numeral  geometry.  Thus  we  see  that  arithmetic 
finds  application  independently  of  numbers ;  and  if 
we  are  attentive  we  will  see,  over  and  over  again,  that 
these  signs  are  the  true  maeks   oj^  all  the  acts  and  re- 


220  HUMA.NICS. 

suits  of  thought^  whether  in  abstract,  moral,  pliysical, 
or  concrete  Science.  Geometry,  like  every  other 
branch  of  knowledge,  is  a  science  of  units,  quantities, 
differences,  equalities,  and  ratios,  whether  of  phenom- 
ena, force,  law,  time,  or  space. 

Most  all  the  facts  or  theorems  of  elementary  Geom- 
etry are  ab-numeral.  They  are  the  laws  of  the  meas- 
urement of  magnitude — not  tlie  measurement  itself; 
and  though  ab-numeral,  they  are  units,  as  positive  and 
determinate  as  if  they  were  expressed  in  numbers. 
Yet  the}^  are  nothing  till  subjected  to  \hQfive  processes 
of  arithmetic,  whether  numeral  or  ab-numeral.  1^, 
Enumeration  ;  2^,  Addition  and  Multiplication  ;  3°,  Sub- 
traction and  Division  ;  4"^,  Reduction ;  and  5*^,  Ratio, 
must  lend  their  light  to  resolve  the  problems  contained 
in  the  points,  the  lines,  the  surfaces,  and  the  forms. 
Of  the  many  kinds  of  pure  units  known  to  Geometry, 
under  distinct  names  and  definitions — centre,  intersec- 
tion, perpendicular,  diagonal,  square,  circle,  cone, 
sphere,  &c., — no  reasoning  can  be  framed  till  the  laws 
of  numerical  computation  helps.  Number,  with  her 
standards,  her  axioms,  and  her  signs,  must  help  Meas- 
ure ;  Number  must  come  forward,  with  her  formulas 
and  laws,  to  enable  Measure  to  distinguish  the  greater 
from  the  less  ;  identify  the  equal  with  the  equal ;  give 
the  common  elements  of  various  figures  and  magni- 
tudes, and  show  the  ratios  of  force  and  law  which  ex- 
ist in  the  entire  synthesis  and  its  parts. 


THOUGHT.  221 

Then  it  is  that  Geometry  becomes  a  science. 
Though  her  quantities  have  no  digital  numbers,  they 
are  defined  units  of  computation,  (enumeration ;)  they 
are  elements  to  distinguish  one  line  or  form  from 
another,  (subtraction;)  they  are  sums  by  joining  one 
line  or  form  to  another,  (addition ;)  they  are  denomi- 
nate by  the  applicability  of  the  same  theorems  to  the 
same  forms,  regardless  of  size,  (reduction ;)  and  the}^ 
are  proportional  by  the  very  fact  that  they  are  the  ra- 
tional, not  concrete,  parts  of  a  totality,  (Ratio.)  This 
totality  is  Space^  or  Extension,  which  tliouglit  has  dis- 
sected not  merely  according  to  tangible  and  direct  phe- 
nomena, but  according  to  the  laws  of  thought  itself,  or 
what  is  the  same  thing,  according  to  the  laws  of  arith- 
metic. 

Hence  Geometry  is,  after  all,  purely  a  physical  sci- 
ence ;  a  knowledge  of  space  acquired  by  the  aid  of 
number  ;  for,  geometry  begins  by  ideating  portions  of 
space  as  units  or  integers,  and  then  seeks  for  propor- 
tions of  lines  composing  each  figure,  for  the  ratios  of 
the  contents  or  of  the  distances  from  point  to  j)oint. 

In  fact,  Geometry  ought  not  strictly  to  be  considered 
as  a  part  of  Mathematics,  but  as  Space  analyzed  by 
means  of  the  laws  of  number ;  and  we  may  apply  the 
same  remark  to  Mechanics,  which  treats  of  the  mathe- 
matical analysis  of  Force. 

Thus  as  we  proceed,  logic  is  more  and  more  identi- 


222  HUMANICS. 

fied  with  mathematics ;  for  Mathematics  is,  as  Davies 
defines  it,  "  the  science  of  quantity  /  that  is,  the  sci- 
ence which  treats  of  the  ineasures  of  quantities,  and 
their  relations  to  each  other ; "  and  all  the  logicians 
declare  that  their  science  Logic,  is  also  a  science  of 
"  quantity  ;  "  and  that  it  all  turns  upon  the  measured 
relation  between  the  major  and  minor  terms  of  the  syl- 
logism. 

It  is  fashionable  to  consider  all  the  indirect  facts  in 
Geometry  as  being  "  deduced''^  from  the  smaller  num- 
ber of  direct  facts ;  and  hence  Geometry  has  been 
called  a  "  deductive  science.'"  The  definitions  and  ax- 
ioms are  given  as  the  major  premises  from  which  every 
subsequent  proposition  is  deduced  by  successive  dem- 
onstrations. 

This  theory  looks  very  plausible,  but  it  is  liable  to 
obvious  objections. 

In  Geometry  we  rarely  meet  with  a  proposition 
which  is  immediately  deducible  from  any  single  pre- 
vious definition  or  axiom.  ]!^ow,  if  there  is  any  diflfer- 
ence  between  deductive  and  inductive  reasoning,  it  is 
that  in  the  first  consequences  are  extracted  from  a  sin- 
gle premiss,  on  the  principle  that  the  major  includes 
the  minor ;  but  in  the  second,  the  consequence  is  ne- 
cessarily determined  from  several  surrounding  circum- 
stances, cotemporaneous  forces,  and  co-existent  laws  ; 
and  this  last  is  no  other  than  the  method  employed  for 
geometrical  demonstration.  The  truths  of  the  proposi- 
tions are  made  apparent  by  calling  attention  to  a  mul- 


THOUGHT.  223 

tiplicity  of  facts,  which  concur  in  pointing  to  the  ne- 
cessary existence  of  a  certain  state  of  things,  but  each 
of  which  is  insufficient,  ^er  se,  to  authorize  the  conclu- 
sion. Herein  w^e  recognize  the  mark  of  the  inductive 
method,  or  the  process  of  ideation  I  have  described 
above.  Open  Euclid  at  any  page,  and  the  correctness 
of  this  remark  will  be  verified. 

True  it  is.  Geometry  proceeds  step  by  step ;  and,  as 
it  were,  by  "  sorties  ;  "  but  why?  Simply  because  the 
fabric  of  the  science  has  been  thoroughly  surveyed,  its 
order  of  elevation  discovered,  and  its  most  comprehen- 
sive facts  or  law^s  set  down  at  the  foundation  of  the  ed- 
ifice. The  propositions  now  seem  to  grow  out  of  one 
another  ;  but  centuries  of  study  were  required  for  the 
evolution  of  this  classification  ;  and  as  yet  no  continu- 
ous and  unbroken,  regular  and  real  sorites  has  been 
found  linking  the  propositions  of  Geometry  as  in  a 
chain.  I^o  such  chain  is  possible.  What  has  been 
constructed  is  a  beautiful  temple  of  truth,  with  its  prin- 
cipal walls,  its  several  columns,  its  span  of  arches,  its 
towers,  and  its  dome,  all  dependent  upon  each  other ; 
but  no  one  piece  includes  or  supports  the  whole. 

If  we  want  to  prove  the  truth  of  any  geometrical 
proposition,  the  proposition  immediately  preceding  it 
is  seldom  sufficient,  notwithstanding  tlie  artful  manner 
in  which  the  science  is  arrayed.  We  must  call  to  our 
aid  other  propositions,  and  hedge  up  the  fact  we  wish 
to  appropriate — we  must  erect  barriers  on  every  side, 
and  occupy  every  point  of  surrounding  space.     When 


224  HUMANICS. 

thus  encompassed,  the  liunted  truth  cannot  escape,  and 
is  found  in  its  proper  place  ;  but  a  straight  chase,  by 
syllogisms  and  sorties,  would  not  have  found  it  on  the 
track,  and  could  not  have  secured  it. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  theorem  :  "  In  every  trian- 
gle the  sum  of  the  three  angles  is  equal  to  two  right 
angles,"  and  see  how  many  different  facts  must  be 
brought  to  bear,  and  how  many  distinct  definitions,  ax- 
ioms, corollaries,  and  scholiums  must  be  noted  and  sta- 
tioned before  the  demonstration  can  be  completed. 
No  such  thing  as  a  chain  of  deductions  is  here  dis- 
played, but  as  in  the  spider's  web  the  many  threads  of 
a  net-work  of  facts  converge  to  a  common  centre.  This 
is  induction,  not  deduction.  It  is  like  the  circumstan- 
tial evidence  of  the  courts ;  it  is  the  ideation  of  which 
we  have  spoken — the  forming  of  the  picture  of  a  pre- 
viously unknown  condition  of  things,  out  of  parts  of 
those  already  known  and  fixed. 

To  teach  geometry  by  deduction  alone,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  find  one  (and  only  one)  self-evident  fact, 
including  or  effusing  all  other  instances  of  the  laws  and 
phenomena  of  magnitude. 

FORCE  AND  LAW. 

The  same  reason  which  prevented  us  from  discours- 
ing on  Phenomena,  apart  from  Time  and  Space,  pre- 
vents also  any  rational  separation  of  the  ideas  of  Force 
and  Law. 


THOUGHT.  225 

Force  may  be  regarded  as  being  "  in  itself"  a  fact ; 
but  man  ideates  it  as  implying  degrees  of  strength ; 
and  these  degrees  as  implying  Laws  of  cause  and  ef- 
fect. 

The  nearest  notion  science  has  formed  of  absolute 
Force  is  :  Inertia,  but  Inertia  itself  as  involving  laws. 

The  mathematic  nature  of  the  human  mind  compels 
us  to  conceive  all  force  as  measured  and  seriated  ;  as 
having  value  as  a  cause,  and  as  producing  effects  ade- 
quate to  that  valued  causation. 

The  origin  of  our  ideas  of  causation  is  fourfold  ;  for 
they  find  a  starting  point — 

1^.  In  i\\Q  feeling  of  vitalit}^  itself,  or  of  the  innate 
power  of  action  we  instinctively  use. 

2^.  In  the  coiisensihility  of  primary  impulses  and 
motives. 

3°.  In  the  consciousness  of  the  activity  and  influence 
of  the  forces  of  objective  nature. 

4°.  In  the  internal  knowledge  we  have  of  the  crea- 
tive and  formative  operations  of  thought ;  and  of  the 
dominion  reason  exercises  over  our  conduct. 

Force  and  Law  are  those  two  essential  co-ordinates 
of  phenomena,  which  the  logicians  of  the  syllogistic 
school  have  found  it  impossible  to  work  into  their  frag- 
ment of  the  art  of  thinking.  The  logic  of  Aristotle 
makes  a  good  appearance  as  long  as  it  deals  with  real 

or  figurative  extension  /  but  when  called  to  assist  the 
15 


226  HUMANICS. 

thinker  in  the  world  of  Mechanics,  Hydrostatics,  Hy- 
draulics, Pneumatics,  Ceraunics,  Optics,  Calorics,  Me- 
teorology, Chemistry,  and  Physiology,  the  queen  Syl- 
logism is  forced  to  give  precedence  to  king  Reckoning. 

Having  evolved  the  unit,  our  archeus  of  thought 
proceeds  to  posit  other  units  with  the  first ;  and  having 

said  one,  one,  one, it  is  able  to  say  one,  two, 

three,  four, and  having  said  four,  &c.,  it  finds 

that  tw^o  and  two  make  four — create  four — are  the  cause 
of  four  ;  and  thus  the  true  and  primary  idea  of  causa- 
tion is  evolved,  and  runs  all  through  mathematics, 
gathering  complexity  as  the  science  progresses.  In  no 
other  way  than  on  this  hasis  of  mathematical  reck- 
oning, can  w^e  have  any  rational  idea  or  initial  standard 
of  Cause  and  Effect.  It  is  out  of  and  from  that  first 
principle  of  thought,  the  ideation  of  the  unit,  that  all 
science  proceeds.  Hence  the  mind  seeks  for  numbers 
in  everj"  thing ;  nor  is  it  disappointed,  for  since,  in 
modern  time,  number  and  measure  have  been  sought 
for  in  God's  works,  all  the  wonderful  sciences  and  arts 
which  are  the  glory  of  humanity  have  arisen  ;  for  God 
has  created  all  things  in  numeral  proportion  and  meas- 
ured harmony. 

Ko  person  wdio  has  a  distinct  knowledge  of  any 
branch  of  natural  science,  can  deny  the  proposition 
just  stated  ;  and  therefore  I  will  not  stop  to  cite  exam- 
ples ;  but  I  simply  appeal  to  the  facts,  and  refer  the 
reader  to  my  witnesses  :  the  text-books  on  any  and 
every  branch  of  Physics. 


THOUGHT.  227 

All  the  2:i*eat  orio-inators  of  science  were  mathema- 
ticians,  who  carried  into  the  investigation  of  nature  the 
primary  principles  and  axioms  and  methods  of  mathe- 
matics— men  who  nnderstood  the  spirit  of  mathematics 
enongh  to  know  that  nntil  they  had  found  the  numeral 
units  the  Grand  Archeus  of  the  Universe  had  formed 
for  the  phenomena  they  were  studying,  they  could  work 
by  undeterminate  quantities,  signs  of  greater,  less, 
equal,  &c.,  applied  to  names  of  various  phenomena, 
that  could  seek  for  common  denominators  by  means  of 
direct  and  experimental  reduction  :  that  they  could  at 
once  begin — 1°,  to  add  one  phenomenon  to  another,  to 
find  sums  of  force  adequate  to  given  effects ;  2°,  to  sub- 
tract one  phenomenon  from  another,  to  find  residual 
elements  as  ultimate  terms  of  computation ;  S'',  to  mul- 
tiply and  divide  phenomena  and  phenomena,  for  classes 
and  orders  ;  4'',  to  rate  the  progressive  and  proportional 
processes  of  phenomena,  in  order  to  find  the  laws  of 
nature,  the  connection  of  forces  and  entities,  the  move- 
ment of  cause  and  effect. 

Thus,  all  discoverers  have  viewed  every  phenome- 
non, at  any  moment  of  time,  as  an  effect  and  as  a  cause. 
As  long  as  it  was  reducible  by  any  means  into  parts,  or 
convertible  into  other  forms  or  aspects,  they  have  never 
been  willing  to  conceive  it  as  beginning  with  itself,  and 
invariably  seek  for  its  initial  unit — a  something  of  ade- 
quate power  as  an  antecedent ;  and  as  long  as  they  find 
a  complex  sum  of  forces  as  the  immediate  cause,  they 


228  HUMANICS. 

continue  their  work  of  research  and  reckoning.  This 
is  the  law  of  science,  and  being  the  law  of  thought  it- 
self it  is  even  the  warrant  of  superstition,  for  supersti- 
tion is  only  the  ignorant  supposition  of  an  adequate 
cause. 

Thus,  too,  have  discoverers  always  been  unable  to 
admit  of  an  eternal  permanency  of  present  effects ; 
for  having  found  that  forces,  properties  have  values  of 
constant  persistency  in  volume  and  modus,  sum  and 
proportion,  they  predicate  that  effects  must  necessarily 
be  also  causes ;  and  that  changes  produced  by  causes, 
to  which  consecutive  and  everlasting  quantities  can  be 
assigned,  will  continue  to  produce  equal  and  propor- 
tionate changes. 

Hence  it  is  that  any  reasoning  upon  cause  and  ef- 
fect is  a  computation  of  forces,  and  the  ideation  of  their 
measurable  power  and  action,  course  and  relation,  in 
any  given  event,  or  phenomenon. 

The  preceding  remarks  on  Ideation  may  be 
summed  up  in  this  proposition  : 

The  pivotal  function  of  thought  is — 

THE  IDEATION  OF  THE  UNIT. 

The  tendency  of  the  mind  to  frame  the  unit  is  so 
essentially  its  primal  and  universal  law,  that  it  does  not 
stop  short  of  all  nature. 

In  the  beginning  of  human  consciousness,  the  facts  it 


THOUGHT.  229 

noted  were  necessarily  without  apparent  links,  and  stood 
therefore  isolated  and  disconnected  in  memory;  but 
every  instant  of  experience  in  the  history  of  the  race  or 
the  life  of  the  individual  must  have,  does  now,  and  ever 
will  furnish  new  points  of  contact  and  homogeneity  in 
all  things. 

In  the  beginning,  for  instance,  no  unity  w^as  known 
to  exist  between  the  gushing  fountain,  the  broad  ocean, 
the  w^ind- wafted  clouds,  and  the  falling  rain ;  but  these 
facts  w^hich  at  present  to  us  are  mentally  inseparable, 
were  once  so  disunited  in  thought,  w^ere  each  considered 
as  so  circumscribed  in  their  scope,  that  they  were  per- 
sonified as  distinct  deities,  entitled  each  to  a  special 
w^orship  :  I^aides,  Neptune,  Eolus,  Pluvius,  &c.  Still 
more  disconnected  w'ere  the  lightnings  of  the  clouds  and 
terrestrial  electricity. 

Yet  the  human  mind,  by  virtue  of  its  syncretical 
function,  could  not  stop  short  of  these  scattered  units  ; 
but  ideated  all  facts  as  one,  and  called  the  whole  N^ature 
—the  Universe,  &c. 

So  rapid  was  this  summing  up  of  all  consciousness 
as  a  single  entity,  that  it  w^as  in  fact  the  starting  point 
of  philosophy,  as  the  traditions  we  have  of  Thales, 
Pythagoras,  &c.,  abundantly  show.  So  immediate  must 
have  been  the  unital  conception  of  nature,  that  the 
rudest  languages  of  primitive  men  have  words  to  ex- 
press the  ideal  totality  of  nature,  however  incoherent 
its  contents  may  have  seemed  at  first. 

In  fact,  as  each  of  us  progresses  from  infancy  to- 


230  HUMANICS. 

wards  age,  every  impression  on  consciousness  is  added 
to  its  predecessors,  and  conceived  as  increasing  tlie  sum 
of  all  things,  as  augmenting  our  capital  of  experience, 
as  a  mere  fraction  of  that  entirety  we  call  self,  or  as 
an  extension  of  the  ever-spreading  circle  we  call  the 
Kosraos. 

But  while,  on  the  one  hand,  first  the  law  of  mind  in- 
duces tlie  formation  of  this  great  unit,  or  onacrocosm, 
the  same  law  of  unity  prompts  us  to  frame  other  and 
minor  units,  w^henever  it  is  possible  either  de facto  or 
conceptually.  Whenever  two  or  more  facts  are  found 
together,  or  to  fit  each  other,  or  to  be  homogeneous,  in 
time,  place,  force,  or  law,  they  are  ideated  as  one  or  as 
a  sum.  Of  such  units  all  our  knowledge  of  Nature  is 
composed. 

Thus  adding  forever  one  perception  to  another  we 
obtain  the  great  unit  of  the  '*  one  and  all^^  with  the 
myriads  of  integers  of  which  it  is  composed. 

But  siibtracting^  dividing,  commeasuring,  &c.,  we 
never  cease  to  combine  and  invent  new  units  and  inte- 
gers, denominators  and  ratios,  of  motion  and  mechan- 
ism, fact  and  art. 

In  these  data  the  processes  of  abtraction.  association, 
suggestion,  imagination,  comparison,  analysis,  general- 
ization and  the  like,  display  themselves  witli  a  light  so 
clear  that  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  enter  into  illustrative 
details. 

Every  idea  considered  as  a  imit  is  but  a  fraction 
of  the  all-embracing  denominator,  the  Universe.     An 


THOUGHT.  231 

idea  may  be  conceived  as  a  point  to  which  a  multitude 
of  other  ideas  send  their  rays  of  light,  and  from  which 
at  once  new  rays  arise,  to  increase  the  general  illumi- 
nation, and  generate  other  centres. 

I  present  this  comparison  of  the  intellectual  with 
the  physical — this  analogy  between  thought  and  liglit — 
not  as  a  direct  and  tangible  fact,  but  only  as  a  figure 
or  image  serving  to  aid  the  reader  instantly  to  under* 
stand  my  meaning,  when  asserting  the  simultaneous 
unity  and  multiplicity,  division  and  communit}^,  which 
the  numeral  function  of  tlie  mind  finds  in  conscious- 
ness. 

Hence  association  and  suggestion  develop  them- 
selves intelligibly,  and  in  their  legitimate  connection 
with  analysis  and  synthesis ;  and  as  arising  simply  from 
the  interconnection  of  one  and  all  in  the  process  of  idea- 
tion. 

Thus  suppose  we  should,  as  an  example  of  ideation, 
suggest  "  an  atomr  Instantly,  from  the  units  of  num- 
ber, space,  time,  form,  color,  weight,  order,  substance — 
beauty,  motion,  place,  force,  law,  cause,  efiPect,  &c.,  &c., 
converge,  and,  as  it  were,  offer  themselves  to  co-operate 
in  the  construction  of  the  idea  of  this  atom ;  and  the 
fractions  or  contributions  we  accept  and  put  into  our 
conception  of  the  unit  thus  formed,  ever  retain  their 
connection  and  identity  with  their  several  sources,  so 
that  one  cannot  be  present  to  the  mind  without  the 
others  being  also  present ;  and  the  mental  phenomena 
of  suggestion,  association,  and  endless  re-suggestion, 
necessarily  take  place. 


232  HUMANICS. 

In  proportion  to  the  scope  of  the  macrocosm  known 
to  an  individual,  in  proportion  to  the  multiplicity  of 
distinct  units,  of  which  his  sum  of  knowledge  is  com- 
posed, does  any  one  of  the  units  of  thought  suggest  a 
greater  number  of  others.  Thus  the  fall  of  an  apj^le 
presented  many  associate  facts  to  the  people  of  the 
middle  ages,  but  now  it  presents  many  more,  for  by 
I^ewton's  great  discovery  this  fact  also  suggests  all  the 
wonders  of  astronomy,  even  to  the  boys  and  girls  of  our 
common  schools. 

Over  this  process  number  and  its  laws  necessarily 
preside,  else  all  would  be  confusion;  would  be  con- 
sciousness and  memory,  without  reflection  and  inven- 
tion, without  unity  and  construction  of  units. 

Hence  we  may  now  say  that  Ideation  is  in  fact  con- 
sciousness^ aided  hy  Thought — consciousness  of  sensa- 
tions and  emotions  past  and  present,  assisted  and  en- 
lightened by  the  mathematical  powers. 

But,  says  the  reader  to  me,  Where  are  these  math- 
ematical powers  to  be  placed  ?  located  ?  to  what  as- 
signed? matter  or  spirit?  You  refuse  to  the  phreno- 
logical organ  of  number,  the  power  of  counting — and 
condescend  to  admit  only  its  faculty  of  perceiving 
plurality.  You  push  back  Comparison  and  Causality 
to  a  place  among  the  perceptive  organs  of  men  and 
beasts.  You  treat  them  as  mere  perceptions  and 
memories  of  direct  diiferences  and  connections.  Where 
shall  we  seek  for  the  mathematical  powers  of  man — 
where  shall  we  find  Thought? 


THOUGHT.  233 

Postponing  my  answer  to  this  question  until  I  have 
more  fully  prepared  the  groundj  I  therefore  proceed  to 

a  BRIEF  EEVIEW  OF  LoGIC. 

It  is  now  well  settled,  j)ractically  at  least,  that  the 
Aristotelian  system  of  logic  does  not  embrace  the  most 
important  processes  or  acts  of  the  mind  in  reasoning. 
It  treats  only  the  laws  of  the  final  and  easiest  evolution 
of  thought,  immediately  subsequent  to  the  finding  of  the 
main  truth,  whereas  it  was  all  important  to  determine 
the  laws  by  which  the  main  truth  itself  might  be  sought 
and  demonstrated.  Few  disputes  arise  about  the  con- 
sequences to  be  deduced  from  admitted  principles  and 
facts.  The  debates  between  philosophers,  politicians, 
theologians,  physicians,  &c.,  turn  generally  upon  the 
premises  major  or  minor.  The  moment  the  facts  are 
ascertained  and  generalized  beyond  cavil,  there  is  al- 
ways an  end  of  disputation  ;  for  tlie  immediate  conse- 
quences which  the  third  term  of  a  premiss  might 
serve  to  express,  are  at  once  apparent  to  all.  Hence 
it  is  that  the  logic  of  Aristotle  was  so  sterile  ;  hence  its 
exclusive  use  retarded  human  progress ;  hence  it  was 
finally  considered  as  futile,  and  its  study  is  now  generally 
abandoned  ;  w^hile,  on  the  other  hand,  the  fruitfulness 
and  progressive  j)Owers  of  the  Baconian  system  of  in- 
duction has  gained  it  not  only  the  admiration  of  every 
great  mind,  but  also  entitles  its  first  expounder  to  the 
gratitude  of  the  human  race. 


234  HUMANICS. 

Logic  is  the  science  of  the  laws  of  thought ;  it  in- 
chides  Metuod,  which  is  the  art  of  applying  those  laws 
to  the  discovery  or  demonstration  of  Trutli. 

If,  therefore,  Induction  be  one  of  the  grand  laws  of 
the  process  of  thought,  it  ought  to  be  carefully  and 
amj^ly  exposited  in  every  treatise  on  Logic  or  Method. 
In  fact,  the  logicians  of  the  present  century  have  shown 
their  full  appreciation  of  this  necessity,  and  have  con- 
ceded a  place  to  investigation,  analysis,  analogy,  and 
elimination  alono^side  of  2:randmother  Svlloo^ism.  The 
Aristotelians  have  striven  to  show  that  their  system 
really  contains  the  elements  of  Induction,  and  that 
Bacon  owes  his  merit  to  the  Stagy  rite ;  while  the  Bacon- 
ians treat  this  pretension  with  ridicule  and  contempt. 
Certain  it  is  that  the  world  of  practical  reasoners  not 
only  are  fast  forgetting  many  of  the  terms,  but  pay  no 
regard  to  the  formulas  of  the  Antique  school. 

These  extremes  are  imjustifiable  on  both  sides  ;  and 
I.  S.  Mill,  in  his  admirable  "  System  of  Logic,"  has 
shown  how  they  may  be  made  to  meet  and  work  to- 
gether, as  the  essential  parts  of  one  science. 

Let  him,  therefore,  be  our  guide  in  this  review  of 
the  science,  for  which  he  has  so  ably  reconstructed  a 
single  temple,  out  of  the  parts  of  two  distinct  shrines 
intolerant  votaries  had  erected,  one  to  the  generator 
Induction,  and  the  other  to  the  parturitive  Deduction. 

Our  guide  begins  his  system  by  an  examination  of 
Language. 


THOUGHT.  235 

*'  Language,"  says  he,  "  is  evidently,  and  by  the 
admission  of  all  philosophers,  one  of  the  principal  in- 
struments or  helps  of  thought ; "  and  he  might  have 
added  expressl^y,  as  it  is  evident  he  tacitly  held,  that  a 
human  language  (words  and  grammar)  hear  the  imjpress 
of  the  laws  and  j^rocesses  of  the  mind,  which  has  pro- 
duced that  language. 

What  is  the  ohject  of  Language  ?  Is  it  not  the  ex- 
pression of  Emotion,  Sensation,  and  Thought?  Does 
not  language,  therefore,  necessarily  reflect  the  feelings, 
impressions,  and  ideas  of  the  mind,  as  exactly  as  it  is 
possible  for  the  expression  to  do  so?  Does  not  the 
speaker  strive  to  convey  to  the  hearer,  to  reproduce  his 
own  sentiments  and  reflections  in  the  mind  of  the 
hearer  ? 

What  is  the  origin  of  language  ?  Is  it  a  divine 
revelation,  or  a  natural  gift  ?  What  matters  it  whether 
it  is  the  one  or  the  other  ?  for  in  both  cases  would  it 
not  be  from  God  ?  and  as  being  the  gift  of  a  flrst  cause, 
must  it  not  bear  within  itself  the  primary  laws  of  an 
intellectual  origin  ?  In  fine,  must  not  the  instrument 
of  thought  be  conformable  to  the  thought  that  created 
it,  as  well  as  to  the  thought  it  was  made  to  serve  ? 

The  works  of  De  Bonald,  Des  Brosses,  Herder,  Geb- 
ilin,  and  Degerand,  directly,  and  those  of  Leibnitz,  De 
Biran,  Keid,  Stewart,  and  Locke,  incidentally  show  the 
absolute  connection  between  the  development  of  lan- 
guage and  that  of  thought ;  the  dependency  of  the 
form  of  language  upon  the  mental  matrix. 


236  HUMANICS. 

Tims  : 

1.  In  tlie  history  of  language  we  find  man  begin- 
ning, in  order  to  express  Lis  primary  sensations  and 
emotions,  by  giving  utterance  to  rude  interjections,  and 
making  pantomimic  gestures. 

2.  Then  we  hear  him  give  utterance  to  these  sensa- 
tions and  emotions,  by  means  of  imitative  sounds.  He 
strives  to  reproduce  to  the  ear,  the  impressions  of  his 
consciousness  ;  and  when,  as  in  the  case  of  emotions, 
this  is  impossible,  he  does  it  by  analogy  and  personifi- 
cation. Our  English  word  "  Spit "  is  imitative  ; 
''Hate"  is  derived  by  analogy  from  heat;  ''Hope" 
originally  meant  reaching  forvmrd  j  and  I  might  give 
hundreds  of  examples ;  but  I  think  it  suffices  to  refer 
to  the  authors  above  mentioned,  and  to  that  wonderful 
work  of  human  industry  and  science,  Webster's  In- 
troduction, w^herein  the  symbolic  formation  of  words, 
expressive  of  emotions,  &c.,  is  fully  illustrated. 

3.  ISText  to  this  we  may  trace  the  process  of  forming 
words  declarative  of  a  reasoning  power ;  and  we  will 
generally  detect  in  them  an  arithmetical  or  geometrical 
type.  Thus,  says  "Webster,  "  for  example,  all  nations, 
as  far  as  my  researches  extend,  agree  in  expressing  the 
sense  o^  justice  and  7'ight  by  straightness  j  and  sin^  ini- 
quity^ and  wrong^  by  a  deviation  from  a  straight  line  or 
course."     He  adds  many  other  examples. 

"What  was,  after  the  first  cry  of  feeling,  the  first  thing 
man  had  to  communicate  to  his  fellow-man  ?  Was  it 
the  names  of  objects  ?      Assuredly  not ;  for,  if  man 


THOUGHT.  237 

never  had  had  any  wants  to  satisfy,  or  desires  to  grat- 
ify, the  names  of  objects  would  have  been  indifferent  to 
him.  If  objects  had  not  been  the  mediums  among 
which  and  by  which  events  occurred  to  man,  he  would 
have  neglected  to  name  any  object.  Webster,  in  his 
Introduction,  sustains  this  view  ;  he  says  :  "  it  is  dem- 
onstrated that  the  verb  is  the  radix  or  stock  from  which 
have  sprung  most  of  the  nouns,  adjectives,  and  other 
parts  of  speech  belonging  to  each  family."  Indeed, 
speech  would  not  exist  at  all,  were  it  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  1,  affinning;  2,  questioning;  3,  petitioning; 
4,  commanding ;  and  5,  discussing.  Hence  the  verb 
was  first  required ;  and  nouns,  adjectives,  &c.,  grew 
immediately  from  them,  and  took  the  features  of  their 
parent.  Things  were  named  from  the  actions  or  move- 
ments of  mind  or  body  with  which  they  had  become 
associated. 

The  intervention  of  the  rational  element  induced 
man  to  convert  the  terms  given  by  emotion,  and  it  was 
not  till  they  had  been  fashioned  to  suit  the  laws  of  num- 
ber, that  they  became  thinkable. 

Thus,  it  was  necessary — 

1.  To  o\)i2im  units ;  and  hence  the  article,  demon- 
strative pronoun,  proper  noun,  and  words  of  like  im- 
port. 

2.  To  add  and  multiply ;  and  hence  the  collective 
nouns,  cardinal  adjectives,  conjunctions,  plurals,  &c. 

3.  To  subtract  and  divide,  state  fractional  parts ;  and 
hence  the  adjective,  abstract  substantive,  &c. 


238  nuMANics. 

4.  To  I'cdiice  or  classify,  according  to  a  common 
measure  ;  and  hence  the  distinctions  of  gender,  com- 
mon substantive,  &c. 

5.  To  determine  ratio  or  relation ;  and  hence  ordi- 
nal and  comparative  adjectives  and  adverbs,  tense, 
mode,  case,  auxiliary  verbs,  adverbs,  prepositions,  &c. 

At  the  centre  of  all  is  the  verb — the  germ  and  life 
of  all  assertion,  declaration,  &c.  Even  in  the  sponta- 
neous interjection  the  verb  is  implied.  'No  expression 
of  existence,  sensation,  emotion,  consciousness,  action, 
or  thought,  can  be  pronounced  without  it.  It  is  the 
pivot  or  fulcrum  of  every  proposition  or  argument — 
the  motor  power  of  the  machinery  of  thought. 

Words  are  so  evidently  the  units  and  integers  of 
thought,  that  even  the  scholastic  logicians  seem  to  have 
perceived  the  fact.  "Witness  the  earnestness  they  dis- 
play at  the  outset,  in  urging  the  use  of  words  in  their 
exact  signification  ;  the  necessity  of  selecting  words  of 
precise  import ;  the  advantage  of  ascertaining  the  con- 
notation or*  contents  of  words  ;  tlie  dangers  of  vague 
and  ambiguous  terms.  They  complain  emphatically 
of  the  perversion  of  language,  as  preventing  the  philos- 
opher from  classing  and  demonstrating  truth,  and  as  en- 
abling the  sophist,  by  means  of  equivocal  "  names  "  and 
metaphors,  to  obtain  the  triumph  of  error.  ]N"ow,  what 
does  all  this  amount  to  ?  When  properly  interpreted, 
it  turns  out  to  be  a  periphrase  of  the  first  law  of  arith- 
metic, which  requires  us  to  determine  the  vahce  of  the 
imit  of   computation.     We   must  have,  says  Davies, 


THOUGHT.  239 

"  a  clear  apprehension  of  the  single  thing  which  forms 
the  basis  of  number."  Thus,  at  the  threshold,  we  find 
logic  to  be  really  ab-numeral  Arithmetic.  Logic  hypo- 
critically disguises  her  true  personality,  by  using  a  dif- 
ferent nomenclature.  If  she  had  said  unit  instead  of 
"  name,"  she  would  not  have  lost  sight  of  her  parent- 
age, and  might  have  proved  herself  worthy  of  her  le- 
gitimate filiation. 

;Names  are  distinguished  by  logicians  into  several 
kinds  or  classes. 

1.  Tlie  distinction  of  names  into  General  and  Pak- 
TicuLAE,  is  more  clearly  understood  by  the  definitions 
of  geiural  tenns  and  particular  integrals^  or  of  comjyo- 
site  and  jprime  numbers,  in  mathematics.  The  simple 
distinction  of  common  and  proper  nouns  given  in 
Grammar,  comes  much  nearer  to  the  real  meaning  of 
the  logicians,  in  defining  general  and  particular  names  ; 
and  by  frankly  adopting  these  they  might  have  avoided 
much  perplexity,  for  the  syllogism  is  useless  and 
impossible,  whenever  the  matter  to  be  reasoned  does 
not  afi'ord  a  divisible  common  noun  for  a  major  pre- 
miss. 

2.  The  distinction  of  names  into  Conceete  and  Ab- 
stract, is  taken  from  Arithmetic,  wdiich  defines  these 
two  kinds  of  units  or  quantities ;  and  in  accordance 
thereto,  the  grammarians  have  found  that  in  the  forma- 
tion of  language,  mankind,  under  the  direction  of  their 
faculty  of  siibtracting^  have  been  able  to  adopt  "  ab- 
stract nouns  "  for  ideas  and  qualities ;  and  to  separate 


240  HUMANICS. 

this  class  of  nouns  from  the  common,  proj)er,  and  col- 
lective. 

3.  The  distinction  of  Connotative  and  Kox-conno- 
TATivE  names,  was  necessarily  suggested  by  that  of 
concrete  and  denominate  iinits  on  the  one  hand,  and 
"  indeterminate  "  and  "  independent "  quantities  on  the 
other  :  the  one  being  suggestive  of  attributes  or  stand- 
ard parts ;  and  the  other  being  a  quantity  without  a 
known  value  or  relative  measure. 

4.  The  distinction  of  Positive  and  I^egatwe  names 
is  also  derived  from  the  arithmetical  and  geometrical 
nature  of  thought,  which  furnishes  the  idea  oi  j)hcs, 
equal,  and  oniniis.  Plus  is  positive,  minus  is  negative. 
In  algebra  they  are  so  recognized  and  treated,  and  the 
sign  of  addition,  -f,  is  applied  to  the  one  ;  the  sign  of 
subtraction,  — ,  to  the  other.  In  grammar  the  jyrefixes 
and  suffixes  are  given  in  lieu  of  these  signs.  As  to 
"  privitive  "  names,  they  are  the  expression  of  remain- 
ders. 

Thus :  Activity — Activity =mactivity. 
Sight — Siglit=Sight^^55  or  Blind. 
Lady-j-Beauty=Beauti/'i^^  Lady. 

5.  The  distinction  between  Absolute  and  Relative 
names,  is  also  noted  by  authors  on  logic  ;  but  it  would 
be  very  difficult  for  them  to  carry  out  any  such  divi- 
sion practically.  In  mathematics  there  are  absolute 
terms ;  but  they  are  only  so  accidentally,  as  being  com- 
plete though  present  in  the  problem  under  solution. 


THOUGHT.  241 

Such  a  distinction  might  be  admitted  in  ab-niimeral 
arithmetic  or  logic,  and  denoting  conceded  data  or 
points  needing  no  discussion.  To  carry  the  idea  of  ab- 
sbhite  terms  as  distinguished  from  relative  any  further 
than  this,  does  not  appear  possible,  and  must  be  vain 
and  serve  no  useful  purpose.  Even  single  and  isolated 
words  have  rarely  if  ever  an  "  absolute  "  meaning ; 
that  is  to  say,  a  meaning  independent  of  any  relation  ; 
for  it  is  only  by  relations  that  any  term  can  be  defined. 
Hence  in  grammar  the  absolute  substantive  is  unknown, 
and  in  mathematics  it  is  synonymous  with  "  complete." 

Thus  it  is  evident  that  the  distinction  of  names,  as  es- 
tablished in  the  logic  of  the  schools,  is,  as  far  as  it  goes, 
borrowed  from  mathematics  and  grammar,  but  that  the 
appropriation  has  not  been  thorough  or  well  adapted. 
Had  the  logicians  applied  the  formulas  of  mathematics 
to  grammar  and  philology,  I  am  confident  they  would 
have  been  much  more  successful  in  finding  a  good  clas- 
sification of  names.  The  simple  division  of  substan- 
tives into — 1,  j)roj)er ;  2,  common  ;  3,  collective  ;  4, 
abstract,  as  given  by  grammarians,  is  unobjectionable 
and  sufficient. 

Geammak  shows,  by  its  analysis,  that  language  was 
framed  by  the  mathematical  attributes  of  mind. 

1.  The  Yerb  is,  as  we  have  already  proved,  the  mo- 
tive power  of  language ;  and  therefore  verbs  are  sub- 
jected to  the  laws  of  quantity,  in  time  and  force,  in 
space  and  direction,  by  virtue  of  which  motion  itself  is 

thinkable.     A  movement  must  have  place  where,  time 
16 


242  HUMANICS. 

when  :  it  must  have  a  force,  a  figure,  a  beginning,  a 
course,  and  an  end ;  and  a  verb  to  be  a  verb,  must  im- 
ply all  these  elements  of  number  and  measure.  Our 
inability  to  compute  by  numeric  values,  or  delineate 
by  exact  lines,  every  action  expressed  by  a  verb,  does 
not  affect  the  mathematical  nature  of  the  conception 
they  declare.  If  we  have  not  found  a  standard  of 
value  for  the  intensity  or  velocity  of  the  act,  we  supply 
the  want  of  the  exact  measure  by  the  use  of  approximate 
and  graduated  terms  :  thus  we  say  creep,  crawl,  hobble, 
limp,  linger,  loiter,  trudge,  saunter,  walk,  march,  haste, 
hurry,  canter,  trot,  rush,  gallop, run,  fly,  &c.,  &c.  "To 
love,"  is  an  act  of  emotion ;  and  even  in  its  infinitive 
mood  this  verb  implies  a  degree  of  intensity ;  and  it  may 
be  ranked  in  the  scale  of  affection  thus  :  to  fancy,  to 
admire,  to  like,  to  cherish,  to  love^  to  adore.  But  the 
workings  of  computation  in  the  creation  of  verbs  is  not 
confined  to  its  root ;  for  all  the  variations  of  the  verb 
are  due  to  the  same  influence. 

Thus  : 

— One  of  the  termini  of  the  act  is  always  indicated 
by  the  agreement  of  the  verb  with  its  Nominative. 

— K  the  end  or  object  of  the  act  is  flrst  given,  this 
inversion  of  order  is  indicated  by  the  Passive  Yoice. 

— Yariations  and  gradations  of  time  are  marked  into 
periods  by  the  Tenses. 

— The  intensity  of  the  act  as  positive,  hypothetical, 
possible,  probable  or  necessary,  is  rated  by  an  Auxiliary 
verb  or  a  change  of  Mode :  will,  may,  can,  might, 
must. 


THOUGHT.  243 

— And  even  the  acting  unit  is  exhibited  in  the  verb 
itself;  for  it  varies  with  the  Person  and  !N'nmbcr  of  the 
snbject. 

A  ]^orN,  we  have  ah-eady  seen,  is  an  ab-numeral  unit 
or  sum  :  1,  proper  or  concrete  ;  2,  common  or  standard ; 
3,  collective  or  composite ;  4,  abstract  or  pure.  What- 
ever may  be  individualized,  and  thus  become  an  object 
of  numeration,  may  be  represented  by  a  noun.  What- 
ever cannot  be  counted  cannot  be  expressed  by  this 
part  of  speech.  Hence  the  verbs  "  to  be,"  "  to  have,'' 
"  to  do,"cannot  become  substantive  without  personifica 
tion  or  integration,  so  that  naming  is  unquestionably 
quantitative — the  determination  of  a  whole,  a  sum,  an 
integer  ;  and  quantity  is  of  the  essence  of  nouns  ;  they 
are  the  objects  of  every  mathematical  process  ;  they  may 
be  increased,  diminished,  or  limited  by  other  words 
implying  something  plus,  minus,  equal,  or  proportional. 
Kot  only  is  the  given  noun  thus  augmented,  reduced,  or 
determined  by  the  article,  adjective,  pronoun,  but  a 
super-addition  or  sub-elimination  is  made  by  other 
words  appended  to  the  adjective  itself.  Moreover,  by 
means  of  changes  in  the  signs,  or  modifications  of  the 
noun  or  of  its  representative  the  pronoun,  it  is  made  to 
exhibit  not  only  the  plurality  of  Numher^  but  also  divi- 
sions and  classes  in  Gender  and  Person,  or  the  relations 
of  Case,  of  exclusion  and  inclusion ;  distribution, 
identity,  and  generalization.  A  glance  at  the ^;>6?'56»7i(zZ, 
demonstrative^  distributive,  indefinite,  and  relative  pko- 
NOUNS,  will  satisfy  the  read  erhow  man,  in  giving  names, 


244  HUMANICS. 

was  applying  to  practice  those  primary  types  of  tliouglit, 
number  and  measure,  was  presenting  notations  of 
identity  and  equality,  difference  and  multiplicity,  order 
and  relation. 

But  verbs  and  nouns  could  not  supply  all  tlie  neces- 
sary symbols  of  that  branch  of  ab-numeral  mathematics 
treated  of  in  Grammar.  Hence  the  other  parts  of  speech, 
Adjectives,  Adverbs,  Articles,  Participles,  Prepositions, 
and  Conjunctions. 

3.  Adjectives,  Articles,  Phonominal-Adjectives, 
Adverbs,  and  Participles,  indicate  that  the  unit  of 
thought,  whether  verb  or  noun,  has  some  ^lus  or  minus 
value  which  must  be  computed,  included  or  excluded. 
Thus :  a  good  man,  is  Man+good ;  a  lifeless  body,  is 
Body — Life.  This  class  of  words  can  be  arranged  in 
positive  and  relative  categories  of  Number,  Order,  Place, 
Time,  Quantity,  Force,  Form,  Course,  and  Yalue.  We 
find  this  or  a  like  classification  of  the  Adverbs  already 
made  in  every  grammar,  and  it  is  therefore  unnecessary 
to  give  examples. 

4.  Prepositions  suj)ply  the  place  of  geometrical 
lines  and  diagrams  of  movement  or  position,  the  direc- 
tion, course,  or  circumscription  of  units  of  action  or  of 
phenomena. 

"  Of"  marks  the  source,  author,  initial,  or  agent:  it 
represents  a  line  directed  haclc  from  a  principal  to  the 
element  or  object. 

"To"  marks  the  end,  object,  or  recipient:  it  repre- 
sents a  line  directed  fonoards  towards  the  element  or 
object. 


THOUGHT.  245 

"For"  sometimes  means  "in  the  place  of :  "  it  rep- 
resents an  algebraic  or  geometrical  substitution,  or  the 
movement  of  something  into  a  place  and  of  another  out 
of  it.  "  For,"  sometimes  means  "  towards."  It  has 
other  meanings,  but  they  all  delineate  some  recip- 
rocal or  opposite  motion  in  the  double  sense  of  "  of" 
and  "  to." 

"  By  "  points  out  the  line,  the  guide,  the  route,  the 
standard,  or  measure,  which  was,  is,  or  to  be  conformed 
to. 

As  to  the  other  prepositions  I  need  only  say,  they 
have  evidently  no  other  function  than  to  fix  a  point  or 
trace  a  line.  It  suffices  to  glance  at  the  list  of  this 
class  of  words  in  order  to  verify  this  fact. 

5.  Conjunctions. — Conjunctions  have  no  other  func- 
tion than  that  of  noting  some  mathematical  process. 

"  And  "  requires  adding  together. 

"  Although "  implies  a  plus  force  overcoming  a 
minus  ;  and  so  does  "  but,"  "  notwithstanding,"  &c. 

"  Because  "  or  "  For  "  indicates  value  adequate  to 
the  cause  or  effect  stated  ;  and  so  does  "  as,"  "  since," 
"  therefore,"  &c. 

"  Or  "  announces  division,  substitution,  and  the  sep- 
aration of  quantities. 

And  so  I  might  continue  to  the  end  of  the  list. 

The  values  of  wokds  are  not  only  defined  by  their 
isolated  meaning,  but  also  by  auxiliary  signs  or  nota- 
tions. I  have  already  shown  the  use  of  etymological 
modifications  in  determining  the  value  of  words ;  but 


246  HUMANICS. 

there  are  other  variations  which  should  not  be  over- 
looked. 

Thus  wo  have — 

The  prefixes,  which  generally  declare  a  total  sub- 
duction  or  a  diminution. 

The  suffixes,  which  generally  declare  an  accretion 
or  equivalence. 

Tlie  curious  student  may,  by  looking  over  the  defini- 
tions in  "  Town's  Analysis,"  satisfy  himself  that  the  of- 
fice of  all  these  particles  is  to  note  some  operation  of 
which  the  type  is  in  mathematics. 

The  signs  of  Compakison  exhibit  at  once  their 
arithmetical  origin.     Good,  hetter^  hest,  is  a  Hatio. 

Synonyms  are  often  terms  of  equal  vcdue  ;  yet  their 
main  use  is  to  state,  with  greater  nicety,  variations  of 
value  in  similar  conceptions.  There  is  generally  grad- 
uation, degree,  progression^  ratio^  in  any  group  of  syn- 
onyms. Ex. ;  Feel,  perceive,  heed,  notice,  view ;  im- 
agine, suppose,  conjecture,  surmise,  guess,  assume,  pre- 
sume,  believe,  cognize,  observe,  consider,  examine,  col- 
late, investigate,  scrutinize,  analyze,  compare,  test, 
identify,  verify,  know,  discriminate,  deliberate,  calcu- 
late, think,  ponder,  muse,  meditate,  reflect,  cogitate, 
speculate,  reason,  generalize,  infer,  theorize,  synthe- 
tize,  apprehend,  deem,  conceive,  comprehend,  under- 
stand, deduce,  value,  grant,  admit,  concede,  assent, 
concur,  conclude,  decide,  resolve.  Similar  groups  to 
this  might  be  formed  of  other  classes  of  words,  thus 
showing  how  the  entire  language  is  made  up  in  the 


THOUGHT.  247 

same  way ;  how  tlie  mathematical  element  of  mind  is 
always  afferent  in  the  creation  of  words  ;  and  how 
when  nnmbers  cannot  be  used,  for  want  of  an  exact 
standard  of  unity,  scales  of  approximate  values  are 
provisionally  invented. 

Syntax  and  Pkosody  teach  us  how  to  state  the 
problems  we  have  to  work  out,  or  the  solutions  we  have 
found.  They  teach  us  how  to  set  forth  propositioois, 
demonstrations^  theorems^  lemmas^  corollaries^  scholi- 
ums^ hypotJiesiSj  and  postulates^  with  correctness,  pre 
cision,  and  perspicuity.  In  the  narratives  and  descrip- 
tions, discourses  and  orations,  of  ab -numeral  thought, 
the  object  is  either  the  disclosure  of  facts  or  the  en- 
forcement of  argument,  and  to  accomplish  this  prop- 
erly the  methods  of  mathematics  must  be  observed,  or 
a  medley  will  be  produced.  Hence  in  Rhetoric,  the 
care  with  which  we  are  taught  to  divide  and  arrange 
every  discourse,  according  to  the  best  plan  of  demon- 
stration. Methinks  the  study  of  mathematics,  and  the 
application  of  its  laws  of  exposition,  would  remove 
many  impediments,  and  aid  the  cause  of  truth.  It 
would  lead  me  too  far  from  my  direct  object,  if  I  en- 
tered into  details  in  order  to  sustain  this  remark  ;  and 
I  must  be  content  with  alluding  to  the  construction  of 
Sentences.  First  the  verb  is  posited  as  the  soul  of  the 
sentence,  (its  quantum  of  existence  or  force ;)  and  then, 
rules  are  given — iov placing  i\iQ  subject  and  object ;  for 
regulating  the  concord  of  the  different  words,  so  that 
tlieiv functions  may  be  apparent ;  for  positing  the  ad- 


248  HUMANICS. 

jectives,  adverbs,  &c.,  in  connexity  with  the  terms 
they  serve  to  limit,  augment,  or  diminish  ;  for  employ- 
ing and  varying  the  eqiiivale7it  signs,  such  as  personal 
pronouns ;  for  making  a  sum  of  several  terms  by 
means  of  conjunctions ;  for  exhibiting  with  precision 
all  the  relations,  and  adjusting  the  unity  of  the  sen- 
tence. 

What  else  is  done  by  mathematicians  with  the  dig- 
its and  diagrams  of  their  language,  when  they  use  it 
to  give  or  demonstrate  a  fact  reducible  to  exact  num- 
ber or  figure?  The  signs,  digits,  &c.,  or  mathematics, 
are  really  words,  simple  instruments  used  by  thought 
in  noting  its  ow^n  oj^erations.  Hence,  as  the  w^ords 
treated  of  in  grammar  fulfil  the  same  office  as  those 
treated  of  in  mathematics,  there  is  no  essential  differ- 
ence between  them.  In  mathematics  the  words  and 
syntax  are  more  definite,  as  standards  of  exact  value  ex- 
ist for  every  term  or  phrase  ;  but  as  science  advances, 
even  this  difference  may  disappear.  For  instance,  if 
phrenology  be  grounded  in  fact,  the  language  even  of 
Ethics,  like  that  of  Chemistry,  or  that  of  Mechanics, 
may  admit  of  numbers. 

In  time,  Pythagoras  wdll  be  understood  ;  and  it  will 
be  seen  that  his  mystic  adepts  have  concealed  and 
travestied  the  profound  truths  their  master  taught.  So 
it  has  been  with  the  moral  philosophy  of  Jesus.  For 
ages  it  was  distorted  by  superstition  and  priestcraft ;  but 
it  may  yet  cease  to  be  the  password  of  idolatry,  to  be- 
come a  criterion  of  Science. 


THOUGHT.  249 

Having  discoursed  of  Language,  Logic  turns  its  at- 
tention to  the  "  THINGS  denotedhy  names ;  "  but  becomes 
at  once  embarrassed  to  frame  categories,  and  the  like. 
Aristotle,  Kant,  and  others,  have  vainl}^  tried  to  classify 
things  in  general,  but  their  work  could  not  be  perfect, 
because  they  had  not  exact  terms  at  their  disposal. 
Their  attempts,  nevertheless,  show  they  were  fully  im- 
pressed with  the  utility  of  subjecting  the  objects  of 
thought  to  a  process  of  direct  division. 

Their  list  of  the  quotients  of  this  direct  division,  is 
identical  with  the  matters  upon  which  mathematics 
performs  her  operations  :  1,  Substance ;  2,  Quantity ; 
3,  Quality ;  4,  Relation ;  5,  Acts  ;  6,  Passions ;  7,  Space ; 
8,  Time ;  9,  Epoch ;  and  10,  Place ;  all  of  which  are 
thinkable  only  by  virtue  of  one  of  them,  viz.  :  Quan- 
tity ;  for,  what  rational  import  could  Substance,  Qual- 
ity, &c.,  have,  unless  they  be  referable  to  some  stand- 
ard of  quantity — some  process  of  computation,  how- 
ever imperfect  it  may  be  ? 

Thus,  again,  are  we  forced  to  conclude  that  Quan- 
tity is  the  basis  of  thought,  and  Mathematics  is  the  law 
of  thought. 

Definitions  and  Propositions  naturally  follow  the 
consideration  of  words  and  things. 

1.  A  definition  should  describe  a  unit  of  thought 
by  stating  all  its  parts  or  constituents  ;  but  most  gen- 
erally it  is  found  so  difficult  to  gather  and  state  all^ 
that  we  are  content  with  those  indicia  which  serve  to 


250  'HUMANICS. 

distinguish  the  unit  from  any  otlier.  This  is  conven- 
ient, but  it  is  dangerous ;  for  it  loads  to  the  habitual 
omission  of  values,  which  may  be  important  to  correct 
computations  and  solutions.  Hence  the  defining  terms 
should,  when  added  together,  be  equal  to  the  defined 
integer.  Brevity  is,  however,  always  desirable ;  and 
therefore  the  most  comprehensive  constituents  or  frac- 
tions of  the  object  of  the  definition  should  be  used, 
whenever  the  problem  can  be  solved  without  a  minuter 
analysis.  Logicians  give  an  excellent  method  of  fram- 
ing a  definition,  with  a  view  to  comprehensiveness 
and  brevity ;  they  say :  "  ^  correct  definition,  must 
state  the  next  higher  genus  (i.  e.  term  of  progression 
or  ratio)  within  the  extent  of  which  the  given  definable 
lies,  and  then  add  the  essential  attributes  (i.  e.  sub- 
tractable  term)  by  which  it  is  accurately  distinguished 
from  all  collaterals  or  subordinates ^  The  collaterals 
or  subordinates  must  not  contain  the  stated  subtracta- 
ble  term.  This  method  is  evidently  borrowed  from 
the  mathematical  process  of  forming  denominate  quan- 
tities and  scales. 

Hence  logicians,  in  order  to  frame  definitions  by 
this  rule,  must  comply  with  the  true  and  only  laws  of 
thought,  viz. :  the  formulas  of  mathematics.  Their 
rule  for  defining  requires  -divisions  into  class,  order, 
genus,  species,  variety,  and  individual,  disposed  in  due 
progression  and  ratio.  Without  this  recourse  and  sub- 
jection to  mathematics,  they  could  not  have  given  a 
rule  for  definition,  answering  to  tlie  requisites  of  Mani- 


THOUGHT.  251 

festness,  Adequacy,  Unit}^,  and  Brevity.  Hence  it  is 
unnecessary  to  follow  them  in  their  classification  of 
definitions,  into — 1,  thorough ;  2,  complete  ;  3,  descrip- 
tive ;  4,  explicative ;  and  5,  locative  definitions ;  for,  by 
a  single  view  of  this  classification,  as  it  stands  in  the 
books,  it  may  be  seen  that  these  distinctions  amount 
merely  to  another  way  of  saying  that  definitions  may 
proceed  by  integers,  additions,  remainders,  or  may  be 
based  upon  the  lowest  and  other  proportionate  divisors 
or  quotients. 

2.  Propositions  come  next.  Logicians  consider 
them  to  be  "  assertions  of  a  phenomena,  as  being  al- 
ways accompanied  by  another ;  "  or  the  declaration  of 
a  judgment  "  affirming  a  relation  between  two  objects 
of  thought ; "  and  out  of  this  an  endless  and  compli- 
cated system  of  nominal  differences  among  propositions 
is  devised.  Havino^  attached  themselves  more  to  the 
concept  of  words,  than  to  the  realities  words  are  made 
to  represent,  the  logicians  were  greatly  embarrassed 
when  tliQj  attempted  to  classify  propositions  ;  for  lan- 
guage presents  myriads  of  intricate  combinations  of 
meaning  in  w^ords  and  sentences  ;  and  the  labors  of  lo- 
gicians to  parcel  them  out  was  of  necessity  limited  to 
what  Grammar  had  done  for  them.  Unfortunately  the 
real  ownership  of  the  analysis  is  disguised  and  lost 
under  another  nomenclature.  A  Yerb  is  the  copula  ; 
Mood  is  Modality  ;  Inversion  and  Transposition  of  Sen- 
tences is  Mood ;  the  several  grammatical  moods  are 
not  the  Indicative,  &c.,  but  Assertive,  Problematic, 


252  HUMANICS. 

Apoclitic,  etc. ;  Common  or  Multiple  Nouns  are  "  Uni- 
versals  ;  "  Proper  and  Abstract  Nouns  are  "  Particu- 
lars;" Adjectives  and  Adverbs  are  Exposita  or  Med- 
als. Thus  might  we  go  tlirough  all  the  details.  True 
it  is  that  many  of  the  terms  of  Grammar  are  preserved ; 
and  indeed  sometimes  the  nomenclature  the  losricians 
apply  to  propositions,  might  be  advantageously  adopted 
by  grammarians  ;  but  after  all,  the  analysis  of  proposi- 
tions given  in  Logic,  belongs  to  Etymology  and  Syn- 
tax, and  should  be  franldv  surrendered  to  those  branches 
of  learning. 

Now,  if  we  accept  without  reservation  the  defini- 
tion of  Propositions  as  given  in  Mathematics,  the  true 
course  of  procedure  will  at  once  appear.  The  logi- 
cians call  their  propositions  "judgments;"  and  seem 
to  think  that  judgments  depend  more  upon  the  frame- 
work of  exposition  or  of  expression  than  upon  facts ; 
but  in  Mathematics  a  proposition  "  is  a  lyrojposal  to 
PROVE  sometJiing  I  it  is  a  theorem  to  be  verified  or 
demonstrated."  This  points  at  once  to  the  business  on 
hand,  and  demands  a  fruit-bearing  analysis.  Attend- 
ing to  the  fact  that  nothing  is  thinkable,  that  no  reason- 
ing can  take  place  in  any  category  nnless  Quantity 
(absolute  or  indefinite,  moral  or  physical,  positive  or 
negative,  concrete  or  abstract)  be  considered,  that  all 
ratiocination  depends  upon  computation,  that  even 
qimlity  does  not  esca2:)e  this  necessity — it  follows  that 
it  is  not  PArBArA  or  BArOkO,  but  the  formula  of 
Number  and  Measure,  as  found  in  works  on  Mathe- 


THOUGHT.  253 

matics,  which  should  be  applied  to  propositions.  Thus 
would  the  battles  between  deduction  and  induction 
cease,  to  give  place  to  the  generation  and  summation 
of  increasing  and  decreasing  series. 

The  Syllogism  or  Deduction  is  an  illustration  of 
the  correctness  of  iny  position.  The  logicians  admit 
that  reasoning  "is  the  comparison  of  two  or  more  con- 
ceptions with  each  other."  This  should  have  instantly 
suggested  that  reasoning  had  its  type  in  number  and 
measure ;  and  that  since  its  object  was  to  ascertain 
equality  or  difference,  its  laws  were  of  necessity  given 
by  mathematics.  Neglecting  this  truth,  which  was  so 
apparent  from  the  very  definition  of  reasoning,  Aristo- 
tle went  on  and  invented  the  syllogism  as  the  type  of 
thought ;  but  the  syllogism  itself,  though  Aristotle  may 
not  have  been  conscious  of  the  fact,  imposed  itself  (as 
a  model  for  thinking)  by  virtue  of  its  mathematical  na- 
ture. It  is  a  mere  periphrase  of  the  axiom :  "  An  equal 
to  one  of  several  equals  is  equal  to  the  other  equals," 
or  "  the  equals  of  equals  are  equal." 

Aristotle's  dictum  is :  "  Whatever  is  predicated 
universally  of  any  class  of  things,  may  be  predicated 
in  like  manner  of  any  thing  comprehended  in  that 
class."  This  is  wdiat  the  logicians  call  the  dictum  de 
omni  et  nullo^  which  Mr.  John  S.  Mill  has  already 
converted  very  nearly  into  its  true  signification,  by  re- 
marking that  "  if  we  generalize  this  process,  (the  syl- 
logism,) and  look  out  for  the  principle  or  law  involved 


2,54  HUMANICS. 

in  every  such  inference,  and  presupposed  in  every  syl- 
logism, we  find  not  the  unmeaning  dictum  de  omni  et 
nullo^  but  a  fundamental  principle,  or  rather  two  prin- 
ciples strikingly,  resemhling  the  axioms  of  mathemat- 
ics ;  the  first  which  is  the  principle  of  affirmative  syl- 
logisms, and  is  to  the  effect  that  things  which  co-exist 
with  the  same  thing,  co-exist  with  one  another,"  &c. 

When  we  have  proceeded  a  little  further,  it  will  be 
seen  why  Mr.  Mill  failed  to  perceive  that  Matliemat 
ics  is  the  only  logic.  He  certainly  was  on  the  right 
track  for  discovering  that  Logic,  instead  of  being  the 
governor  was  a  mere  parasite  of  Mathematics.  So,  too, 
Professor  Davies,  of  West  Point,  was  on  the  road,  and 
if,  instead  of  attempting  to  write  the  "  Logic  of  Math- 
ematics," he  had  reversed  the  problem,  and  shown  the 
Ilathematics  of  Logic^  he  would  have  produced  a  work 
of  incalculable  importance ;  for  his  great  knowledge 
of  the  first  of  sciences,  would  have  enabled  him  to 
strip  Logic  of  all  its  borrowed  plumes. 

Aristotle's  dictum  is  really  a  self-evident  truth  ;  but 
it  was  turned  into  a  sophism  by  the  use  of  tlie  word 
"  universally,"  instead  of  "  every  unit  or  part." 

The  proposition  should  have  been  thus:  "What- 
ever is  predicable  of  every  unit  or  part  of  any  class, 
may  be  predicated  of  any  one  of  the  units  or  parts 
comprehended  in  that  class."  Or,  in  other  words,  the 
great  dictum,  stripped  of  all  its  useless  and  vague 
words,  and  boldly  stated,  amounts  to  this  trivial  tautol- 
ogy :  What  is  true  of  every  one  of  a  class,  is  true  of 
each  one  of  the  class. 


THOUGHT.  255 

If  any  logician  contests  the  accuracy  of  my  resto- 
ration of  "  every  one  "  to  the  place  of  "  universally," 
I  will  ask  him  to  adduce  any  valid  syllogism  in  which 
'''' alV*  cannot  be  properly  changed  into  "every,"  or 
"  each."  Indeed,  this  is  ex  necessitate  rei ;  for  we 
learn  that  the  major  term  is  the  "  principle,"  the  minor 
is  "  the  case,"  "  instance,"  or  "  example,"  coming  un- 
der it ;  and  that  the  minor  or  middle  term  must  be  dis- 
tributed or  included  in  the  premises.  The  major  is  a 
class^  the  minor  a  genus^  the  conclusion  an  individual. 
Now,  how  can  there  be  cases,  instances,  examples,  ge- 
nus, and  individuals,  in  principles  and  classes,  unless 
these  be  composed  of  separable  or  divisible  units  ?  In- 
deed, the  whole  doctrine  of  the  syllogism  depends  upon 
certain  laws  of  what  the  looricians  call  "  disteibutable 
quantity^''  which  presuppose  the  divisibility  of  the  sub- 
ject into  units  or  integers,  and  necessarily  comport 
"  every  "  and  "  eacli."  Yet  the  students  of  logic  have 
been  so  blinded  by  the  words  "  all "  and  "  universal," 
that  they  have  even  gone  further  than  Aristotle.  I 
have  a  work  on  logic  before  me,  which  puts  the  dic- 
tum thus  :  "^^  Whatever  may  be  predicated  of  the  whole 
may  be  predicated  of  the  parts."  The  master  was  too 
wise  and  cunning  to  have  uttered  such  a  proposition. 
The  earth,  for  instance,  may  be  termed  "  a  whole  ;  " 
could  we  reason  thus  :  the  earth  is  globular,  America 
is  a  part  of  the  earth,  therefore  America  is  globular  % 
Evidently  the  term  whole  will  not  do  here,  and  the 
fact  that  it  does  not  fit  the  syllogism,  shows  clearly 


256  HUMANICS. 

that  the  major  must  comprise  two  equal  parts,  each 
equal  to  a  third  posited  by  the  minor. 

The  eternal  example  of  a  syllogism  given  in  every 
book  on  logic  is  : 

All  men  are  mortal, 
Socrates  is  a  man, 
Therefore  :  Socrates  is  mortal. 

Is  it  not  plain  that  "  all "  men  really  means  every 
man;  and  that  the  argument  may  be  symbolized  by : 

a=x 

b=a 
Therefore :  b=x. 

What  tlien  was  it  that  estopped  Mr.  John  S.  Mill 
from  at  once  adopting  mathematics  as  logic,  in  lieu  of 
trying  to  unite  the  scholastic  syllogism  with  the  Ba- 
conian organon?  It  was  the  apparent  obstacle  pre- 
sented by  "  Quality."  Mr.  Mill  thus  states  the  dif- 
ficulty he  encountered :  "  These  truths,  though  af- 
firmable  of  all  things  whatever,  of  course  apply  to 
them  ONLY  in  respect  to  their  quantity  ;  "  and  further 
down  he  says  :  "In  these  various  transformations  the 
propositions  of  the  science  of  number  do  not  fulfil  the 
functions  proper  to  all  propositions  forming  a  train  of 
reasoning ;  "  viz.,  that  of  enabling  us  to  arrive  in  an 
indirect  method  by  marks  at  each  of  the  properties 
(qualities)  of  objects  as  we  cannot  directly  ascertain 
(or  not  so  conveniently)  by  experiment." 


THOUGHT.  257 

The  fact,  however,  is,  that  if  any  of  the  objects  of 
thought  be  more  than  the  rest  dependent  upon  mathe- 
matics, its  axioms  and  rules,  in  order  to  become  think- 
able, it  is  quality.  ISo  reasoning  can  take  place  with 
regard  to  properties  and  qualities,  till  they  become 
quantitative,  whether  they  become  so  directly,  indirectl}^, 
or  arbitrarily.  Every  logician  is  bound  to  admit  this, 
as  deducible  from  the  primary  definitions  of  the  rea- 
soning process  itself.  It  is  therefore  of  the  quantity  of 
quality,  the  quantity  oi  force  in  properties  or  qualities, 
the  quantitative  ratios  of  the  lavjs  of  properties  and 
qualities,  the  quantity  of  duration  in  titne  of  properties 
and  qualities,  the  quantitative  dimensions  or  sjpace  oc- 
cupied by  properties  and  qualities,  that  we  may  reason. 
It  is  only  through  quantity  that  we  can  understand 
quality  in  itself,  or  can  argue  and  conclude  upon  any 
quality.  If  it  were  otherwise,  we  could  never  go  be- 
yond such  propositions  as  these  :  wdiite  is  white,  or 
black  is  black ;  but  the  moment  we  say,  black  is  not 
white,  we  begin  to  determine  those  units  wdiich  are  re- 
ducible to  the  common  denominator  known  as  color, 
and  then  may  proceed  to  value  and  seriate  according 
to  the  formula  of  ratio,  &c. ;  thus,  by  means  of  the 
laws  of  number,  disclosing  the  science  of  optics.  With- 
out this  quantitative  process  of  determining  units  of 
value^  this  subsequent  reduction^  &c.,  we  never  could 
have  drawn  a  single  inference  about  colors,  &c.  Hence 
when  we  say :  "  Snow  is  white,"  we  assign  a  value^  a 

computable  value,  to  snow,  determining  not  only  its 
17 


258  HUMANICS. 

proportionality  with  the  color  of  other  things,  but  also 
include  all  the  subsidiary  values  and  ratios  of  whiteness 
itself.  Eationality  is  therefore  in  quantity  alone,  and 
logic,  which  professes  to  teach  the  laws  of  rationality, 
is  a  science  of  quantity,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with 
quality  apart  from  quantity. 

Let  us  look  at  all  the  sciences  which  are  concerned 
with  quality  or  jDroperties.  They  all  owe  their  very 
existence  to  the  mathematical  elements  of  thought. 
Every  student  must  be  aware  of  this.  Chemistry 
since  Dalton,  Optics  since  E'ewton,  Mechanics  since 
Archimedes,  Acoustics  since  Sauveur,  have  become 
strictly  mathematical ;  and  every  other  science  con- 
cerning quality,  even  ethics,  is  tending  that  way. 
Phrenology  even  attempts  to  settle  the  partnership  ac- 
counts among  propensities,  sentiments,  and  faculties. 
Statistics  is  daily  furnishing  data  for  moralists  to  reason 
upon  ;  and  Jesus,  centuries  ago,  gave  the  great  practi- 
cal equation,  by  which  every  application  of  these  data 
may  be  determined :  "  Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 

Whenever  and  whereinever  exact  numbers  and 
measures  cannot  be  used,  ab-numeral  quantity  is  ap- 
plied, according  to  the  axioms.  The  terms  commonly 
used  for  tlie  purposes  of  argument,  show  how  impossi- 
ble it  is  to  think,  that  is  to  say,  put  two  things  together 
so  as  to  extract  or  compose  a  third,  without  the  aid  of 
number.  For  instance,  the  words  based,  dependent, 
arising,  adequate,  included,  parallel,  equivalent,  posi- 
tion, hence,  therefore,  because,  possible,  contradictory, 


THOUGHT.  259 

and  a  thousand  others,  refer  to  mathematics  for  the  key 
of  their  meaning.  The  fact  is  there  is  not  a  word  in 
the  dictionary  which  is  not  indebted  to  quantity  for  its 
rational  value ;  and  in  order  to  test  this,  let  us  take  the 
most  absolute  imaginable,  and  then  see  whether  its 
meaning  does  not  suggest  a  variety  of  units :  differ- 
ences and  adequacies  of  phenomena,  force,  law,  time, 
and  space  ? 

Take,  for  instance,  even  the  moral  qualities.  Have 
they  not  each  their  degree  ?  Do  not  their  powers  act 
and  react,  according  to  values  of  intensity  ?  Are  they 
not  influenced  by  attractions  and  repulsions,  intercom- 
pensable  ?  Are  not  our  motives  weak  or  strong ;  and 
do  they  not  alternately  yield,  overpower,  or  become 
balanced  ? 

iNEiEJCTiON  is  the  last  branch  of  logic  which  it  is 
necessary  to  notice.  The  logicians,  since  the  days  of 
Bacon  and  Descartes,  have  endeavored  to  ignore  it ; 
but  it  has  invaded  every  department  of  science,  and 
has  conquered  so  many  mysteries,  that  the  logicians 
have  at  last  condescended  to  give  it  a  place  in  their 
books,  but  only  a  secondary  place,  in  what  is  called 
'•  Method,"  thus  trying  to  make  it  pass  for  the  servant 
of  deduction  and  of  the  s^dlogism.  But  .the  effort  is 
vain,  for  the  verdict  of  mankind  is  rendered  ;  and  if 
it  were  possible  to  dispense  with  either  deduction  or 
induction,  the  world  would  prefer  surrendering  the 
former.     Why  ?     Because  induction  has  borrowed  all 


260  HUMANICS. 

the  rules  and  axioms  of  mathematics,  except  the  one 
previously  taken  for  a  model  to  the  syllogism  ;  and 
hence  induction  has  for  its  share  all  the  instruments 
which  serve  to  discover  the  unknown,  while  deduction 
can  only  exposit  the  known. 

"Invention,"  says  Mill,  "though  it  can  be  culti- 
vated, cannot  be  reduced  to  a  rule  ;  there  is  no  science 
which  will  enable  a  man  to  hethinJc  himself  of  that 
which  will  suit  his  purpose."  I  quote  this  sentence 
because  it  is  illustrative  of  the  consequences  which 
flowed  from  the  failure  to  see  that,  for  all  purposes  of 
thinking,  quality  is  secondary  to  and  dependent  upon 
quantity. 

If  Mr.  Mill  means  that  to  perceive  direct  facts,  im- 
mediate  facts,  as  a  dog,  a  horse,  an  elephant,  we  must 
depend  upon  our  senses,  so  that  if  we  have  never  seen 
or  heard  of  a  horse,  we  would  never  "  bethink  "  our- 
selves of  riding  one,  he  is  right.  But  there  is  an  im- 
mense gap  between  this  bethinking  and  the  bethinking 
of  invention.  Tlie  one  depends  upon  the  accidents  of 
sensation,  which  are,  at  every  instant,  casting  precious 
but  too  often  unnoticed  means  in  our  way.  The  other 
obeys  the  laws  of  thought ;  for  there  is  unquestionably 
a  code  which  ordains  how  we  are  to  bethink  ourselves 
of  what  will  suit  our  purpose.  This  code  is  in  the  rules 
of  number  and  measure,  governed  by  that  archeus 
which  commands  us  to  numerate,  add,  subtract,  reduce, 
and  rate.  Thus  whenever  we  want  to  bethink  our- 
selves of  what  will  suit  our  purpose,  we  begin  at  once 


THOUGHT.  261 

to  number  and  compute,  weigli  and  measure,  equate 
and  seriate,  the  things  within  our  previous  experience 
or  standing  before  us. 

It  was  obedience  to  this  code  of  bethinking,  that 
enabled  Copernicus  and  tlie  long  train  of  discoverers 
and  inventors  who  descended  from  him,  to  change  the 
status  of  the  world.  A  detailed  review  of  the  history 
of  science  would  show  that  the  world  owes  its  progress 
of  the  last  three  hundred  years  to  mathematical  be- 
thinking. Before  Bacon  published  any  thing,  Kepler, 
Tycho  Brahe,  and  Galileo  were  continuing  the  work 
of  Copernicus;  and  before  the  ^N^ovum  Organon  had 
obtained  any  celebrity,  Harvey  and  Torricelli  were 
announcing  the  result  of  their  investigations.  The 
good  ground  of  science  had  been  found  ;  for  from  the 
moment  the  Copernican  system  was  published,  the 
splendid  results  of  mathematical  science  astonished  the 
world  ;  and  the  number  of  votaries  and  adepts  of  that 
science  were  increased.  We  have  the  fruits.  The 
glory  of  Bacon  is  in  the  fact  that  he  was  the  first  to 
show  that  every  science,  as  well  as  Astronomy,  might 
proceed  from  particulars  to  generals.  Bacon,  though 
not  conscious  of  it,  really  introduced  ab-numeral  nu- 
meration, addition,  subtraction,  and  reduction,  to  aid 
the  isolated,  and  therefore  inoperative,  equation  of 
Aristotle. 

The  canons  of  induction,  as  stated  by  Mr.  Mill,  and 
which  are  similar  to  those  found  in  other  books  on  this 
subject,  bear  witness  to  this  proposition. 


262  HUMANICS. 

1.  Method  of  Agreement, 

First  Canon. — If  two  or  more  instances  of  the  plie- 
nomenon  under  investigation,  have  only  one  circum- 
stance in  common^  the  circumstance  in  which  alone  all 
the  instances  agree,  is  the  cause  (or  effect)  of  the  given 
phenomenon. 

2.  Method  of  Difference. 

Second  Canon. — If  an  instance  in  which  the  phe- 
nomenon under  investigation  occurs,  and  an  instance  in 
which  it  does  not  occur,  have  every  circumstance,  save 
ONE,  IN  co:mmon,  that  one  occurring  only  in  the  former ; 
the  circumstance  in  which  alone  the  two  instances  dif- 
fer, is  the  effect  or  cause,  or  a  necessary  ^ar^  of  the 
cause  of  the  phenomenon. 

3.  Joint  Method  of  Agreement  and  Difference. 

Third  Canon. — If  two  or  more  instances,  in  which 
the  phenomenon  occurs,  have  only  one  circumstance  in 
COMMON,  while  two  or  more  instances,  in  which  it  does 
not  occur,  have  nothing  in  common  save  the  absence 
of  that  circumstance ;  the  circumstance  in  which  alone 
the  two  sets  of  instances  differ,  is  the  effect  or  cause, 
or  a  necessary  part  of  the  cause  of  the  phenomenon. 

4.  Method  of  Besidues. 

Fourth  Canon. — Subduct  from  any  phenomenon, 
such  part  as  is  known  by  previous  inductions  to  be  the 


THOUGHT.  263 

effect  of  certain  antecedents,  and  the  residue  of  the 
phenomenon  is  the  effect  of  the  remaining  antecedents. 

Method  of  Concomitant  Variations. 

Fifth  Canon. — ^Whatever  phenomenon  varies  in 
any  manner,  whenever  cmother  phenomenon  varies  in 
some  (one)  particular  manner,  it  is  either  a  cause  or  an 
effect  of  that  other  phenomenon,  or  is  connected  with 
it  through  some  fact  of  causation. 

That  these  few  rules  of  inductive  investigation  are 
borrowed  from  mathematics,  is  too  plain  to  need  any 
comment.  They  are  the  mere  synonyms  of  some  of 
the  Axioms  or  rules  of  Arithmetic  or  Algebra  ;  and,  as 
this  is  apparent  as  soon  as  the  parity  is  suggested,  it 
would  be  idle  to  dwell  upon  details.  Let  me,  however, 
suggest  that  if  he  had  simply  taken  the  axioms  and 
rules  of  arithmetic,  geometry,  and  algebra,  as  they 
are,  and  in  their  original  succession,  and  had  extended 
their  jjhraseology  without  altering  their  sense,  he 
would  have  succeeded  a  great  deal  better,  and  might 
have  given  all  the  laws  and  canons  of  both  deductive 
and  inductive  reasoning,  instead  of  the  few  instances 
he  has  been  able  to  hit  upon.  In  a  subsequent  work  I 
shall  endeavor  to  supply  this  desideratum. 

A  great  number  of  other  instances  might  be  ad- 
duced to  show  how  entirely  both  deduction  and  induc- 
tion are  derived  from  number  and  its  laws  ;  and  I  am 


264  HUMANICS. 

eoaiident  that  in  t.iaie  some  abler  mind  than  mine  will 
frame  a  new  logic,  based  upon  the  aj)plication  of  the 
whole  of  mathematics  to  ab-numeral  cpantity. 

In  the  mean  time  the  j)rogressive  neglect  into  w^iich 
the  logic  of  the  schools  is  falling,  will  allow  more  time 
for  the  study  of  the  logic  of  nature,  the  science  of 
number  and  measure. 


T  now  resume  the  task  of  connecting 


THOrGHT   AND   THE    SOUL. 

Yainly  have  the  sensationalists  endeavored  to  ex- 
plain thought,  by  the  effect  of  objects  upon  the  senses. 
Vainly  have  they  tried  to  reduce  reason  to  objectivity  ; 
and  to  explain  all  the  phases  of  analysis  and  synthesis 
by  impressions,  upon  a  tabula  rasa.  The  ingenious 
explanations  of  Hume  and  Condillac,  in  the  effort  to 
show  how  a  statue^  by  being  endowed  with  organs  of 
sense,  imparted  to  it  in  a  certain  supposed  natural  suc- 
cession, would,  by  the  acquisition  of  sense  alone,  and 
the  mere  necessary  action  and  reaction,  and  consequent 
transformation  of  impressions,  dependent  upon  outward 
pressure,  would  evolve  and  use,  not  only  language, 
but  also  induction  and  deduction.  The  example  of  the 
imaginary  statue  owes  whatever  plausibility  it  seems 
to  contain,  to  the  incidental  and  unauthorized  assump- 
tion of  computation^  as  the  matter  of  course  effect  of 
the  impressions  of  direct  identity  and  variety,  direct 


THOUGHT.  265 

connection  and  severance,  made  upon  sensation.  How 
and  v^hj,  passive  sensation,  bj  its  own  laws,  can  ac- 
tively transform  itself  into  computation,  invent  the  ab- 
stract unit  and  make  it  the  standard  of  mental  opera- 
tions, is  a  question  tlie  sensualists  have  left  entirely  un- 
touched. They  use  their  assumption  without  even 
marking  when  knd  where  it  comes  into  their  argu- 
ment ;  so  that  having  thus  unconsciously  assumed  it  as 
tacitly  conceded  to  them,  they  proceeded  onward,  and 
the  rest  was  easy.  It  happens,  however,  that  the  ob- 
jections to  sensationalism  begin  precisely  at  this  point, 
thus  taken  for  granted.  Man  does  compute ;  but  by 
virtue  of  what  does  he  do  so  ?  To  what  principle  or 
force,  laws  or  properties,  does  the  mind  owe  the  power 
of  positing  the  abstract  and  arbitrary  unit,  and  of  cal- 
culating by  it  and  with  it  ?  It  is  said  that  the  statue 
after  receiving  this,  that  and  the  other  impression,  will 
do  so  and  so.  But  that  is  the  very  matter  in  dispute, 
and  it  has  not  been  shown  how  the  statue  could  do  any 
thing  more  with  the  impressions,  than  a  daguerreotype 
plate  could  have  done.  In  vain  are  various  sensations 
detailed,  and  the  assertion  made,  that  different  impres- 
sions must  produce  different  states  of  consciousness, 
and  that  these  states  being  present  in  memory,  are  ne- 
cessarily compared  with  each  other.  It  is  precisely 
this  necessit}^  which  cannot  be  made  evident,  without 
the  aid  of  an  initial  and  specific  power  of  the  mind  to 
perform  the  operation. 

True  it  is  that  man's  mind  instantly,  upon  any  sen- 


266  HUMANICS. 

satiou,  connects  an  idea  of  quantity,  intensity,  degree, 
proportion,  or  distribution,  with  that  sensation  ;  but  the 
idea  thus  annexed  can.  only  be  due  to  some  property  or 
power  in  the  man  himself,  for  if  ideas  were  only  copies 
of  pictures  and  of  feelings  perceived,  as  they  must  be 
if  produced  by  sensation  only,  how  could  they  be  di- 
vided into  parts,  and  new  ideas  be  built  up  Avith  the 
severed  materials ;  how  could  ideas  ever  be  conven- 
tional or  arbitrary,  as  often  they  are  ?  Assuredly  sen- 
sationalism never  answered  this  objection,  without 
evoking  some  innate  archeus  to  do  the  work. 

It  is  very  certain  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  ob- 
jective or  sensational  pictures  themselves,  to  divulge 
the  mathematical  unit.  Nature  does  not  furnish  us 
with  a  ready-made  multiplication  table,  or  with  fore- 
settled  common  divisors.  The  real  is  one  thing,  the 
standard  of  measure  is  another ;  one  is  given  to  con- 
sciousness, the  other  is  the  product  of  an  operation  of 
the  mind.  How  often  is  reality  exhibited  to  conscious- 
ness without  any  mark  of  divisibility,  as,  for  instance, 
time  and  space  ;  but  the  mind  will  not  tolerate  this, 
and  arbitrarily  supplies  the  conditions  of  computation. 

If  sensations  were  sufficient  to  impress  ideas  of 
value  or  quantity,  whetlier  absolute  or  relative,  then  all 
other  animals  would  necessarily  be  as  wise  as  man  is, 
in  the  science  of  numbers  ;  for  brutes  also  have  the  ^Ye> 
senses.  Sensation  in  brutes  is  as  perfect,  and  often 
more  active  and  intense  than  in  man  ;  but  it  is,  at  the 
same  time,  certain  that  brutes  are  totally  destitute  of 


THOUGHT.  267 

mathematical  ideas.  Now,  that  the  unit  not  only 
evolves,  hut  jyredupposes  all  mathematics,  no  one  who 
understands  the  rationale  of  numbers  will  den  j.  Hence 
if  we  were  to  grant,  for  an  instant,  that  anj  sub-human 
animal  numerates,  we  would  be  obliged  to  concede 
that  they  do  perform  every  subsidiary  process.  It  is 
impossible  to  separate  the  act  of  positing  and  counting 
the  unit,  from  any  part  or  from  the  whole  of  the  sci- 
ence of  numbers  ;  for,  let  me  repeat  it,  the  conception 
of  the  unit  imports  the  conception  of  addition,  sub- 
traction, &c.  Prof.  Davies  says  :  "  Since  all  numbei*s, 
whether  integer  or  fractional,  must  come  fkom,  and 
hence  be  connected  with,  the  unit  one,  it  follows :  that 
there  is  but  one  purely  elementary  idea  in  the  science 
of  numbers ;  that  the  idea  of  every  number,  regarded 
as  made  up  of  units,  is  necessarily  complex  ;  that  all 
numbers,  except  one,  must  be  so  regarded  when  we  ana- 
lyze them ;  that  since  the  number  arises  from  the  addi- 
tion of  ones,  the  apprehension  of  it  is  incomplete  until 
we  understand  how  those  additions  are  made,"  &c. 

I  now  put  a  simple  and  indubitable  fact  before  the 
reader — a  fact  wliich,  wdth  all  its  simplicity,  is  fraught 
with  consequences  of  the  utmost  value. 

It  is  this : 

Physically,  the  inferior  animals  have  every  organ 
or  faculty  possessed  hy  man. 

Every  thing  that  matter,  vitality,  and  sensation  can 
impart,  they  have  in  a  degree  sometimes  even  superior 


268  HUMANICS. 

to  man.  Brutes  are  materially  equal  to  man.  They 
are  made  of  the  same  materials,  have  the  same  osseous, 
fleshy,  vascular,  and  nervous  organs.  In  vain  have 
anatomists  labored  to  find  a  single  fibre  of  the  brain, 
in  man,  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  other  mammals. 

The  Mathematical  Potentiality  or  aUribiite  is  the 
only  essential  tiling  which  man  can  assert  as  belonging 
exclusively  to  him  /  as  his  alone ;  as  not  held  in  com- 
mon with  hrutes  /  and  therefore  it  cannot  he  due  to  any 
j^hysiological  'property  or  organ. 

This  nmst  be  so,  for  otherwise  the  axioms  and  laws 
of  induction  (the  canons  of  which  I  have  quoted  above) 
would  be  lies  ;  but  they  are  imperturbable  truths,  and 
they  imperatively  sanction  my  argument. 

The  residual  or  distinctive  circumstance  in  which 
man  differs  from  brutes,  is  that  of  having  the  idea  or 
archeus  of  number  and  measure,  and  of  being  able  to 
apply  it  to  substance  and  quality,  form  and  force,  time 
and  space,  action  and  passion,  motion  and  law. 

Hence  it  is  to  this  "  kesidual  circumstance  "  that 
man  owes  all  his  ideations  of  Truth,  Utility,  Morality, 
Beauty,  and  Art. 

What  is  Truth  ?  It  is  tlie  ratio  of  Substantive  Re- 
ality ;  the  adaptation  of  number  and  measure  to  fact. 

What  is  Utility?  It  is  the  ratio  of  Action;  the 
adaptation  of  means  to  ends,  by  the  measure  of  physi- 
cal laws. 

What  is  Morality  ?  It  is  the  ratio  of  Eeason  and 
Passion — of  flesh  and  spirit,  individual  and  society. 


THOUGHT.  269 

What  is  Beauty  ?  It  is  tlie  ratio  of  Quality  :  form, 
dimension,  distribution,  color,  sound,  &c.,  proportion- 
ate and  complete,  in  variegated  unity. 

What  is  Art  ?  It  is  the  adaptation  of  number  and 
measure  to  the  reproduction,  by  man,  of  Truth,  Util- 
ity, Morality,  and  Beauty :  it  is  realized  Thought. 

Thus,  it  seems,  truth,  utility,  morality,  beauty,  art, 
arise  from  number ;  and  hence  if  brutes  could  ideate 
the  unit,  they  would — 

1°.  Have  with  it  the  ability  to  add,  subtract,  &c., 
for  the  unit  presupposes  mathematics. 

2°.  Have  with  it  languages  as  copious  as  those  of 
human  kind ;  for  speech  is  made  up  of  words  expres- 
sive of  integers  of  quantity. 

3°.  Have  with  it  arts  of  their  own  invention ;  for 
computation  is  the  bethinking  instrument  which  ena- 
bles man  to  invent. 

But  to  be  certain  that  thought  (which  I  have  now 
identified  with  man's  power  to  numerate  and  measure) 
is  NOT  physical,  let  us  cast  a  glance  upon  objective  na- 
ture. 

The  Elements  of  matter  (as  every  student  knows) 
are  governed  by  mathematical  laws.  These  laws  are 
applied  to  a  multitude  of  substances  and  properties, 
and  display  themselves  in  an  infinite  variety  of  forms, 
so  that  there  evidently  exists  a  computer,  distributor, 
or  artist.     The  Grand  Archeus  of  the  Universe,  there- 


270  HUMANICS. 

fore,  necessarily  exists  ;  for  mathematics  is  thought,  not 
substance.  Variety  of  adaptation  implies — a  selection 
of  appropriate  materials,  a  ^modification  of  the  mate- 
rials themselves,  to  suit  the  work ;  and  that  this  must  be 
done,  and  each  adaptation  be  realized,  in  the  midst  of 
countless  substances,  qualities,  and  properties,  of  which 
only  a  portion  are  fit  and  the  rest  unfit,  in  each  in- 
stance of  formation ;  and  therefore  rationality  and  de- 
sign must  preside  over  nature.  A  choosing  and  deter- 
mining Thought  must  exist. 

Plants,  though  they  possess  vitality,  have  not  in 
themselves  any  power  of  thought ;  but  since  then*  acts 
are  rationally  ordained,  (as  I  have  abimdantly  proved,) 
those  acts  must  be  determined  by  a  rational  archeus  out 
of  tlmnselves. 

Bkutes  (as  I  have  shown)  possess  mere  physical 
sensation  and  consciousness  ;  their  impressions  are  pas- 
sive, and  their  action  instinctive  or  thought?^55/  but 
since  the  acts  are  rationally  ordained,  while  the  actors 
are  themselves  incapable  of  thought,  the  power  that 
thinks  for  them  and  predetermines  their  instinct,  is  not 
only  rational  but  out  of  them, 

Man  (as  I  have  also  shown  in  the  preceding  parts 
of  this  study)  is  endowed  with  Thought ;  and  hence 
the  archeus  which  did  not  dwell  in  the  brute,  dwells  in 
man ;  becomes  a  part  of  man,  identifies  itself  with,  or 
adopts  his  organism ;  and  thus,  according  to  the  decla- 
ration of  Jesus,  human  beings  are  the  children  of  God, 
for  his  seed  (which  is  Thought)  is  sown  in  our  body ; 


THOUGHT.  271 

and  wliile  in  that  body  may  bear  fruits  of  Thought. 
Truly  has  it  been  said :  "  Man  is  an  intellect  making 
use  of  an  organism." 

Thus  we  have  also  found  the  link  of 

CONSCIOUSNESS   AND   THE   SOUL. 

Consciousness  is  physiological ;  but  it  is  the  surface 
upon  which  thought  or  the  soul  operates  from  its  zenith 
within.  It  is  upon  the  objective  world,  as  given  in 
consciousness,  through  sensation,  that  Thought  or  the 
soul  throws  its  light  /  and  creates,  by  the  union  of  the 
outer  with  the  inner  light,  that  intellectual  conscious- 
ness of  which  man  alone  on  earth  is  the  depositary. 

We  may  now  easily  understand  how  man  may  know 
himself,  and  perceive  the  connection  of 

SELF-KNOWLEDGE  AND  THE  SOUL. 

All  ethics  are  based  upon  the  assumption  that  man 
may  know  himself;  and  therefore  the  precept  "Know 
thyself," — or  the  proposition,  "  The  proper  study  of  man- 
kind is  man,"  is  the  initial  point  of  wisdom  and  virtue. 

To  know  himself  man  must  have  the  faculty  of  self- 
examination.  This  is  so  self-evident  that  it  looks  trivial. 
Cooks  say  that  the  first  thing  necessary  to  make  a  dish 
of  baked  turbot  is  to  have  a  turbot ;  and  we  say  that  in 
order  to  know  ourselves  we  mast  possess  the  inherent 
power  or  faculty  of  self  examination.     In  this  truism, 


272  HUMANICS. 

however,  we  find  matter  for  serious  meditation  ;  and 
ground  for  important  deductions. 

A  machme  may  be  extremely  complicated,  the  steam 
engine  for  instance — it  may  operate  with  the  greatest 
precision,  and  seem  to  be  gifted  with  volition — move  as 
a  thing  of  life  ;  but  with  all  its  co-ordinate  complication, 
and  moving  forces,  it  is  dead  to  itself,  and  though  doing 
the  work  of  mind  it  has  no  mind. 

A  heast  is  endowed  with  life,  but  all  its  actions  are 
passive  or  fatal,  being  dictated  by  that  class  of  motives 
with  which  reflection  and  judgment  have  no  concern. 
Their  acts  are  determined,  like  the  movements  of  a 
macliine,  by  a  sort  of  propelling  power  known  as  "  in- 
stincty  Whatever  variability  or  versatility  we  may 
observe  in  brutes  must  be  attributed  to  outward  pres- 
sure alone.  A  complex  and  circumstantial  coercion, 
determines  the  acts ;  and  a  careful  study  of  the  facts 
has  always  shown  it  to  be  so. 

Man  alone  observes  himself,  attends  to  the  processes 
of  his  own  mind  and  feelings,  reviews  and  corrects  his 
own  reasonings,  examines  and  defines  his  own  motives, 
puts  himself  as  it  were  on  trial  before  himself — he  the 
accused  and  he  the  judge.  This  is  or  can  be  done  by 
no  other  animal.  All  the  labored  arguments  of  ma- 
terialists to  sliow  that  dogs,  horses,  elephants,  or  mon- 
keys have  ever  evinced  even  the  semblance  of  this  facul- 
ty, are  clear  failures. 

In  this  distinctive  trait  we  find  the  first  mark  of 
man's  separation  from  brute   creation,  the  first  link 


THOUGHT.  273 

wliich  connects  liim  with  divinity ;  and  it  is  because 
this  capacity  of  self-examination  is  a p7'e-requisite  o?  all 
moral  and  mental  science,  that  it  is  placed  immediately 
after  those  in  which  man  Ist,  becomes  conscious  of  life, 
and  of  material  good  and  evil ;  2d,  learns  the  necessity 
of  labor  and  principle ;  3d,  witnesses  death  and  con- 
ceives the  hope  of  regeneration. 

Yes,  man  is  capable  of  knowing  himself;  and  now 
let  us  mark  the  consequences  of  this  primary  truth.  It 
is  pregnant  with  evidence  of  the  duality  of  man — 
proves  that  man  is  body  and  soul.  The  observed  and 
the  observer  are  necessarily  two.  The  eye  cannot  see 
itself— a  mirror  cannot  reflect  itself. 

These  two  examples  are  sufficient  to  show  the  ne- 
cessity of  there  being  tiuo  to  do  the  act  of  self-observa- 
tion. JVIechanics,  chemistry,  &c.,  might  furnish  us 
with  other  examples,  but  the  detail  would  require  more 
space  than  we  can  afford.  The  seen  requires  a  seer — 
the  heard,  a  hearer — the  reflected,  a  reflector ;  and 
thus,  man  must  possess,  wdthin  and  distinct  from  him- 
self, the  image  of  himself  in  which  he  may  recognize 
and  commune  with  himself. 

Eemove  that  other  self,  and  all  power  of  '^  reflec- 
tion" must  immediately  cease.  If  any  man  says  the 
conti-ary,  let  me  see  him  lift  himself  and  carry  himself 
upon  his  owm  shoulders. 

Instead  of  cavilling  with,  resisting  or  wilfully  closing 
our  eyes  to  the  undeniable  fact  of  the  duality  of  man, 
we  had  better  receive  this  truth  at  once,  with  cordiality, 
18 


274  HUMANICS. 

and  proceed  sincerely  to  find  its  harmony  with  all  other 
truth.  It  is  suicidal  to  struggle  against  truth,  for  she  is 
powerful  and  must  prevail.  To  deny  a  truth  is  to  con- 
cede that  its  demonstration  would  impeach  our  religion 
and  philosophy.  Let  us  rather  accept  it  with  frankness, 
and  having,  once  for  all,  posited  the  fact  that  man  is 
double — let  us  see  if  this  duality  is  not  the  body  and 
the  soul — the  animal  body  and  the  sj)iritual  body — the 
flesh  and  the  spirit — the  beast  and  the  angel  ? 

The  moment  we  concede  as  we  are  bound  to  do  the 
duality  of  man,  we  may  clearly  understand  how  the 
mind  may  look  upon  itself  for  all  the  purposes  of  recogni- 
tion, revision,  and  correction.  Then  we  may  compre- 
hend how  man  does  hold  intercourse  with  himself,  and 
improve  in  self-knowledge.  Then,  too,  we  may  realize 
a  rational  and  consistent  idea  of  the  real  differentia  be- 
tween men  and  beasts ;  for  observation,  comparison,  and 
reason  will  show  that  the  reflector,  the  other  self,  the 
internal  mirror — mxist  he  the  soul. 

Call  it  by  any  other  name  if  you  choose — the  thing 
itself  will  not,  thereby,  be  changed  ;  for  what  we  call 
the  soul  is  the  distinct  type  of  the  mortal  man — a 
tj'pe  which  has  a  superior  and  specific  existence  of  its 
own. 

You  may  ask  why  we  accord,  not  only  a  specific 
and  distinct,  but  also  a  ''  superior  "  existence  to  this 
type.  We  answer  simply :  that  because  they  are  two 
there  must  be  a  differentia  to  distinguish  them  ;  that 
because  they  are  two,  they  must  be  either  equal,  or  one 


THOUGHT.  275 

must  be  superior  and  the  other  inferior,  but  their  equality 
would  require  us  to  admit  that  we  have  two  equal 
bodies,  which  we  know  is  not  the  fact ;  that  because 
they  are  two,  one  must  be  the  animal  nature  we  hold 
in  common  with  brutes,  and  that  therefore  the  other 
contains  the  differentia  which  distinguishes  us  from 
them  ;  that  because  they  are  two,  and  one  must  be  the 
animal  which  cannot  reflect,  the  other  is  therefore  our 
intellectual  element — the  spirit  of  Love  and  Truth ; 
that  because  they  are  two,  and  one  being  animal,  the 
other,  from  the  necessity  of  differentia,  must  have  some 
property  not  animal ;  and  finally,  that  because  all  the 
works  of  God  are  seriated  and  progressive,  he  has  when 
he  added  unto  man  that  which  entitled  him  to  a  higher 
place  in  the  scale  of  being,  necessarily  added  some  su- 
jperior  element  or  essence. 

Thus,  by  means  of  the  palpable  truism  with  w^hich 
we  commenced  this  argument,  the  existence  of  the  sml 
of  man  is  demonstrated. 

So  also  is  the  fact  that  there  must  be  an  affinity — 
common  properties  of  union — and  reciprocity  of  action 
between  the  mortal  body  and  thinking  soul ;  for  how 
else  could  the  soul  become,  even  temporaril}'-,  identified 
with  the  bodv,  feel  and  suffer  with  it,  think  and  act 
congenially  to  it,  and  bear,  as  it  does,  the  penalties  of 
its  conduct ;  and  how  could  the  body  be  affected,  as 
it  is  at  all  times,  by  the  merits  and  demerits  of  the  soul? 

It  is  therefore  certain  that  the  soul  is  the  typo  of  the 
body,  as  God  is  the  archetype  of  the  soul ;  and  the  texi: 


276  HUMANICS. 

is  verified :  "  God  created  man  in  liis  own  image."  And 
another  trntli  becomes  also  ajDparent.  It  is  that  man 
lias  a  real  conscience,  subject,  as  every  otlier  manifesta- 
tion of  Divine  wisdom,  to  fixed  laws.  Hence  when  the 
animal  creatm'e  infringes  any  of  those  laws,  the  soul 
must  suffer;  and  revolt  against  every  feeling  or  act  not 
congenial  to  its  own  essence. 

We  may  now  proceed  to  a  study  of  the 

EXISTENCE  AND  ATTRIBUTES  OF  GOD. 

I.  In  the  early  days  of  History  there  appeared  men 
of  Wisdom  and  Inspiration,  Philosophers  and  Apostles, 
who,  contemplating  nature — the  Stars,  the  j)lanets,  the 
course  of  the  Sun,  and  the  changes  of  the  seasons — dimly 
perceived  the  first  of  causes,  and  the  destiny  of  man  be- 
yond tlie  grave. 

*  Since  those  days,  many  pages  of  the  book  of  nature, 
to  the  ancient  sages  unknown,  have  been  unrolled  to 
the  eyes  of  mankind.  In  each  successive  generation, 
great  men  of  science  and  genius  have  appeared  and 
lighted  new  beacons  to  guide  mankind  to  a  knowledge 
of  God. 

Yet,  with  all  the  lights  of  science,  with  all  the  ef- 
forts of  theorists,  God  is  now  proved  by  the  same  pro- 
cess of  reasoning  as  in  tlie  first  days  of  history.  The 
philosopher  who  discovers  the  most  hidden  secrets  ot 
nature,  only  brings  new  witnesses — new  facts^  to  illus- 
trate and  fortify  the  first  dictates  of  natural  reason. 


THOUGHT.  277 

The  savage  and  the  sage,  both  reason  alike ;  and  viewing 
the  mysteries  of  creation — struck  with  wonder  at  the 
order,  beauty,  and  wise  combination  of  minute  atoms  and 
stupendous  worlds,  they  exclaim — Behold !  can  it  be 
true  that  there  is  no  God  ? 

The  Materialist  answ^ers — "  abandon  matter  and 
choose  God,  and  you  only  exchange  one  mystery  for 
another.  You  put  back  by  one  degree  the  great  cause, 
but  creation  is  not  thereby  rendered  intelligible.  Like 
the  world  of  the  idolater,  supported  by  a  mighty  tortoise, 
it  remains  for  him  to  learn  the  foothold  of  the  supporter. 
Is  it  not  as  easy  to  believe  that  the  universe  itself  is 
eternal,  as  that  God,  the  all  wise,  the  all  powerful, 
existeth  uncreated  from  all  eternity  ?  " 

And  now  behold,  Skepticism  arises,  and  laughs  with 
scorn  at  the  presumption  of  all  who  pretend  to  divine 
the  undiscoverable  secrets  of  nature. 

"  In  these  theories,"  says  she,  "  our  reason  is  con- 
founded by  equal  mysteries  ;  and  the  finite  mind,  when 
at  last  it  counts  the  real  riches  of  this  treasury,  finds 
itself  the  owner  of  three  words  ;  invented  by  itself,  yet 
beyond  its  own  comprehension :  Eternity,  Infinity, 
God  !  Who  hnows^  says  the  skeptic,  that  matter  had, 
or  had  not,  a  beo-innino;  ?  Who  Tcnows  that  there  is  a 
God,  or  that  no  God  existeth  ?  There  may  be  one  God, 
or  three  Gods,  or  tens,  or  hundreds,  or  thousands  of  Gods, 
or  no  God  ;  but  of  all  this  we  Tcnow  nothing,  and  must 
remain  content  with  our  ignorance." 

Let  it  be  then,  that  L  must  choose  between  three 


278  HUMANICS. 

things — the  Eternity  of  God — the  Eternity  of  material 
order — and  the  blind,  the  deaf,  the  mute,  the  death- 
like mystery  of  Skepticism.  How,  between  these,  can 
I  hesitate  ? 

Shall  I  suspend  or  smother  thought,  and  be  satisfied 
with  ignorant  Skepticism  ?  Shall  my  mind  be  as  the 
bird  of  the  deluge,  ever  on  the  wing,  without  a  resting 
place,  over  the  boundless  waters  of  a  world  submerged  ? 
Shall  I  be  content  that  the  waves  of  doubt  shall  cover 
all  the  works  of  nature  ?  Shall  I  be  content  not  to  infer 
and  judge,  or  not  even  to  guess?  N^ay,  Skepticism  is 
contrary  to  the  nature  of  man.  We  all  feel  the  necessity 
of  believing  something ;  and  the  most  radical  doubter 
has  always  a  cosmogony  of  his  own,  and  is  not  satisfied 
until  he  has,  in  his  own  way,  built  up  the  universe.  If 
man  thinks  of  his  own  existence,  his  mind  will  ever  be 
asking,  How?  Why?  Whence?  ]^or  will  it  ever  let 
him  rest  or  sleep  until  an  answer  is  found,  plausible  at 
least  to  itself. 

We  are  therefore,  all,  either  believers  in  God  or  ma- 
terialists ;  and  he  who  in  argument  asserts  that  he  is  a 
pure  skeptic,  content  with  ignorance,  or  without  a  theory 
of  creation,  is  a  liar  or  an  idiot. 

Materialism  is  unsatisfactory  to  me.  That  word  is 
almost  as  cold,  as  dead  and  as  dark  as  skepticism.  It 
lacks  the  sanction  of  ages,  it  smothers  the  first  prompt- 
ings of  natural  reason,  it  speaks  not  to  the  soul ;  and 
leaves  man,  in  the  midst  of  Chaos  ....  ignorant  of  the 
materials,  and  ignorant  of  their  laws  .  .  to  build  the 


THOUGHT.  •         '279 

universe.  Materialism  allows  no  commnnion  of  tliouglit 
among  men  ;  for,  every  materialist  lias  a  system  of  his 
own,  understood  by  none  but  himself.  He  affects  to 
despise  the  dreams  of  the  Theist ;  and  yet,  none  more 
than  himself  yields  to  the  allurements  of  imagination  ; 
for,  all  his  theories  of  matter,  and  of  the  formation  of 
worlds,  are  pure  inventions  of  a  mind  which  will  not 
brook  ignorance  of  the  birth  of  nature,  and  which 
strains  its  ideal  powers  to  invent  the  laws  of  an  unknown 
necessity. 

And,  now,  since  our  nature  pushes  us  to  imagine ; 
and,  in  the  absence  of  demonstration,  to  divine — since 
we  must  find  a  word  for  the  enigma,  or  live  unhappy — 
let  that  word  be  ....  "  God  ;  "  and  in  that  word  let  us 
rejoice. 

Who  can  shake  off  the  thought  that  word  conveys 
— who  will  consent  to  forget  its  meaning — who  does  not 
understand  it — to  whom  does  it  not  express  a  sublime 
idea  ?  Grandeur,  perfection,  infinity,  power,  wisdom, 
justice,  unbounded  benevolence,  charity,  foresight,  and 
knowledge  ....  the  author  of  creation,  the  preserver 
of  all,  from  the  insect  to  the  sun.  If  that  word  fell  not 
upon  our  soul,  as  w^ell  as  upon  our  ear,  eloquence 
would  lose  its  warmth,  history  become  a  blank,  truth 
lack  her  holiest  witness,  and  poetry  weep  her  brightest 
inspiration. 

If  Theism  is  but  a  theory — it  is  the  most  sublime 
and  the  most  perfect,  the  most  pleasing  and  the  most 
moral — it  is  not  inconsistent  with  any  positive  knowl^ 


280  HUMANICS. 

edge — but  indeed  it  adorns  and  crowns  all  knowledge. 
It  points  science  to  a  great  and  glorious  origin  and  end 
— gives  a  soul  and  a  voice  to  nature — and  tells  the 
traveller  on  tlie  way  of  time,  tliat  there  is  a  goal  to  his 
path,  and  a  hope  for  his  journey.  If  among  theories  I 
must  choose,  I  will  adopt  the  most  beautiful ;  and  if 
the  mind  seeks  a  point  of  immensity,  for  a  resting  place, 
let  that  point,  for  me,  be  a  belief  in  the  existence  of 
God. 

Let  me  illustrate  this. 

II.  A  traveller  is  cast  upon  an  unknown  coast,  and 
after  scrambling  in  darkness,  along  the  shore,  at  the 
dawn  of  the  day  he  finds  himself  suddenly  on  a  broad 
and  winding  highway,  where  everchanging  prospects 
meet  his  eye  at  every  step,  and  where  he  sees  thousands 
of  travellers  journeying  along  like  himself,  all  in  the 
same  direction.  "Will  he  ask  none  where  that  road 
doth  lead  ?  and  if  he  meets  no  one  who  can  answer  that 
question,  will  he  then  content  himself  with  passive  and 
absolute  ignorance,  and  frame  no  supposition,  the  most 
plausible  and  probable  he  can,  as  to  the  object  and  ter- 
mination of  that  road  ?  If  the  road  is  well  paved  and 
bridged,  if  each  stage  is  marked,  if  every  mile-post 
points  onward,  if  well-ordered  grounds  and  symmetrical 
palaces  present  themselves  at  every  turn,  will  he  not 
admit  the  presence  of  intellect  and  power  ?  and  if  he  is 
made  like  a  man,  and  has  a  mind  like  that  of  his  fellow 
creatures,  will  he  not  look  forward  to  an  end  analogous 


THOUGHT.  281 

to  the  means  employed  to  enable  liim  to  reach  it  ?  Will 
he  not  picture  to  himself  a  magnificent  palace,  or  a 
great  city ;  for  why  this  road,  whence  all  these  tokens 
of  design  ?  Yes,  the  picture  of  that  great  city  or  palace 
will  grow  upon  his  imagination,  and  each  step  will  con- 
firm its  existence,  until,  convinced  of  its  reality,  he  will 
walk  forward  with  more  alacrity,  more  hope  and  con- 
fidence. The  narrow-minded  reasoner  may  think  him- 
self extremely  wise,  and  laugh  at  what  he  calls  the 
phantasies  and  dreams  of  this  traveller  who  expects  an 
adequate  term  to  such  a  beginning ;  but  while  the  doubt- 
er scoffs  and  loiters  amidst  present  and  unfruitful  enjoy- 
ments, the  child  of  nature,  he  who  listens  to  the  free 
promptings  of  his  reason  (and  believes  the  eternal  pro- 
duction of  intellectual  effects,  must  depend  upon  the 
eternal  existence  of  an  intellectual  cause) — would  go 
on,  with  a  glad  heart,  cheered  by  brilliant  hopes  ;  and 
when  the  darkness  of  night  would  descend  upon  both 
the  travellers,  one  would  lie  down  in  despair,  while 
the  other  would  yet  look  forward  to  the  City  of  Immor- 
tality. 

III.  The  idea  of  a  God  is  so  natural,  and  so  conform- 
able to  the  plainest  reason,  that  it  suggests  itself  early 
to  the  human  mind — it  is  so  forcible,  so  irresistible, 
that  it  takes  hold  of  and  commands  all  the  intellectual 
faculties  of  man — so  clear  and  satisfactory,  that  it  pro- 
duces more  than  conviction,  and  assumes  the  character 
of  enthusiasm  and  religion.     By  the  proper  use  of  his 


282  HUMANICS. 

faculties  man  with  difficulty  reached  the  arts  and  sci- 
ences of  civilization,  while  the  ignorant  savage  already 
for  ages  had  possessed  a  full  conception  of  the  divinity. 
It  required  the  sublimest  efforts  of  genius  and  study, 
by  men  of  superior  minds  and  deep  investigation,  to 
discover  the  order  of  the  Solar  System,  the  rotundity 
of  the  eartli,  the  principles  of  Gravitation,  the  laws  of 
electricity — while  the  aboriginal,  of  the  great  prairies 
of  the  West,  not  possessing  sufficient  perfection  of 
intellect  to  discover  the  hidden  laws  of  matter,  had  con- 
ceived, in  the  spirit  of  nature,  a  pure  and  correct  idea 
of  the  Deity. 

Yet  let  us  not  contend  that  the  idea  of  a  God  is  simply 
innate,  independent  of  and  unsupported  by  our  reason, 
apart  from  our  feeling. 

Innate  ideas  are  inherent  feelings  of  the  mind  which 
develop  themselves,  by  their  own  force,  in  a  certain 
and  invariable  form.  These  are  different  from  i\\Q  facul- 
ties of  the  mind,  w^hich  are  those  qualities  or  properties 
of  the  cerebral  mass,  that  appear  when  acted  upon 
through  the  senses.  The  first  are  the  spontaneous 
combustion  brought  on  by  the  natural  changes  of  mat- 
ter ;  the  latter  are  the  latent  sparks  of  the  flint  which 
dwell  quiescent,  till  stricken  by  a  steel-armed  hand. 
The  instinct  is  like  the  natural  whisper  of  the  conch- 
shell  ;  but  the  faculties  are  like  the  strings  of  a  harp, 
pregnant  with  music,  yet  silent,  till  played  upon  by  the 
proper  musician.  They  are  the  instrument,  nature  the 
performer,  our  senses  the  hand,  and  reason  the  Music. 


THOUGHT.  283 

To  maintain,  tlien,  that  we  have  merely  an  innate 
idea  of  God,  is  to  degrade  a  sublime  thought  and  dis- 
covery of  the  human  mind  into  the  mere  operation  of 
instinct.  It  Avould  then  be,  indeed,  not  a  compound, 
but  a  simple  sensation  which  would  require  no  reflection, 
no  combination,  no  reasoning  (however  plain)  to  bring 
it  forth. 

Let  us  cherish  a  more  elevated  opinion  of  the  source 
of  our  ideas  of  divinity ;  and  contend  that  the  experience 
of  all — the  hoohs  of  the  sage  and  the  talh  of  the  savage 
— prove  that  humanity's  belief  in  God  is  deduction, 
and  not  the  mere  growth  of  instinct ;  for  it  is  only  by 
the  combination  and  computation  of  preceptions  we  call 
"  reasoning,"  that  both  the  philosopher  and  the  simplest 
child  of  nature  have  been  im23ressed  with  a  faith  in  the 
Divine  Existence. 

lY.  It  matters  not  if  we  fail  to  find  the  rigorous 
mathematical  demonstration  required  by  the  atheist, 
who  does  not  admit  the  helief  which  is  based  upon 
strong  rational  deductions.  There  is  a  medium  between 
absolute  knowledge  and  total  denial.  It  suffices  that 
Deism  responds,  with  thrilling  harmony,  to  the  most 
melodious  tones  of  that  music  of  thought ....  the  Rea- 
son of  Man. 

To  test  this  accordance,  the  first  thing  necessary  is 
to  define  the  idea  or  subject  we  seek  to  examine. 

What  is  "  God  "  ? 

The  answer  requires  an  example. 


284  HUMANICS. 

A  mathematical  philosopher  observed  the  falling  of 
bodies,  the  laws  of  weight,  the  attraction  of  all  things, 
to  a  common  centre,  and  the  revolutions  of  the  planets 
aromid  the  sun  ;  and  finding  that  all  these  things  were 
governed  by  a  single  and  invariable  principle,  he  gave 
that  principle  (though  itself  impalpable  and  invisible)  a 
name,  and  called  it  Gravitation.  The  Theist  does  the 
same — he  observes  the  perfect  order,  immense  life,  and 
infinite  intellect,  which  fills  the  universe  ;  and  seeing 
that  these  are  governed  by  certain  immutable  rules, 
which  indicate  a  common,  origin  or  cause, — he  calls  it 
"  God  !  "  In  fact,  to  the  mind,  the  word  God  is  nothing 
more  than  the  unit  expression  of  the  attributes  of  a 
great  essence,  (in  itself  unknown ;)  but  which  acts 
everywhere,  from  the  centre  of  the  Sun  to  the  utmost 
travels  of  the  Comet,  with  the  force  of  omnipotent  wis- 
dom. 

As  of  Gravitation,  men  know  nothing  of  this  essence 
except  by  the  Phenomena  it  produces.  These  phe- 
nomena proclaim  its  presence  everywhere,  and  appear 
in  modes  so  multiple  and  varied,  as  to  equal  infinity. 
Man  observes  them  by  the  sensation  they  create  within 
him,  through  the  senses ;  and  thus  it  seems,  that  the 
preceptions  and  sentiments  by  which  man  becomes 
acquainted  with  matter  and  its  laws,  are  also  his  means 
of  knowing  God  ;  for,  ask  the  theologian  how  he  knows, 
or  rather  why  he  believes  there  is  a  God,  and  he  will 
appeal  to  the  material  world,  to  the  wonderful  ord^r 
and  life  which  pervade  it;  and  to  the  operations  of 
intellect  which  we  see  around  us,  and  feel  within  us. 


THOUGHT.  285 

Behold  order  in  every  formation  of  matter  from  the 
crystal  to  revolving  worlds — behold  life  in  the  reed 
and  the  oak,  in  the  crawling  insect  and  in  man — behold 
intellect  in  every  operation  of  nature's  laws,  behold  it 
in  our  own  souls,  and  in  the  wonderful  design  which 
governs  all  planets  and  suns,  and  pervades  the  immensity 
of  space. 

The  presence  of  God  is  necessarily  connected  with 
the  Plienomena  of  order,  life,  and  intellect.  They  are 
only  modes  in  which  he  appears,  and  is  made  evident 
to  man — the  only  means  by  which  man  is  conscious  of 
him,  has  proof  of  him,  and  finds  authority  to  believe  in 
his  existence.  These  Phenomena  are  produced  by  his 
presence  as  inevitably  as  Electricity  by  Friction,  Weight 
by  Gravitation,  Expansion  by  Heat,  and  Light  by  the 
Sun. 

I  may  therefore  conclude  that  God  is  the  principle 
of  Order,  Life  and  Intellect,  in  the  universe.  In  other 
words,  there  is  a  principle  which  pervades  all  nature, 
the  essence  of  which  is  order,  life,  and  intellect ;  and  that 
principle  I  call  God. 

Y.  These  attributes  may  be  considered  as  only  one 
which  may  be  called,  and  which  necessarily  is  the 
organizing  ^ower ;  that  is  to  say,  the  power  vvhich 
arranges,  combines,  and  regulates  all  things,  so  as  to 
produce  harmony  and  all  its  consequences.  Order,  life, 
and  intellect  may  be  considered  as  modes,  effects,  or 
higher  grades  of  one  great  and  all-pervading  frinoiple. 


286  HUMANICS. 

Stones  possess  order,  plants  order  and  life,  man  or- 
der, life,  and  intellect.  The  order  possessed  by  the 
plants  is  more  perfect  and  complicated  than  that  pos- 
sessed by  stones,  and  the  order  which  appears  in  the 
organization  of  man  is  still  more  complete  and  wonder- 
ful than  that  of  plants  and  stones. 

Life,  when  combined  with  order,  seems  to  depend 
upon  it,  and  appears  (in  the  vegetable  world  for  exam- 
ple) to  be  nothing  more  than  the  operation  or  action  of 
a  more  perfect  arrangement  of  the  particles  of  matter. 

To  this  combination  add  a  set  of  nerves,  nnite  them 
together  in  the  brain — develop  that  brain  with  ven- 
tricles and  cineritious  matter  and  intellect  appears. 
So  that  it  would  seem  that  in  intellect,  as  well  as  life, 
we  have  but  a  more  perfect  phenomenon  of  \\\q  priuGi- 
j^le  of  order. 

I  do  not  stop  here  to  show  (as  I  might)  how  this 
apparent  dependence  of  intellect  upon  a  more  perfect 
order  is  a  mere  illusion,  how  this  illusion  arises  by  mis- 
taking effect  for  cause,  and  how  organic  order  and  life 
are  subordinate  to  the  causative  force  of  a  powerful, 
independent,  and  designing  will.  This  theme  is  re- 
served for  another  place ;  and  as  it  does  not  directly 
affect  the  present  argument,  I  refrain  from  the  tempt- 
ing digression. 

YI.  Order ^  life^  and  intellect  are  the  trinity  of  na- 
ture^ one  andindimsible. 

Air  may  be  decomposed  into   original   elements, 


THOUGHT.  287 

hydrogen,  oxygen  &c,  wliicli  are  often  found  totally 
separate  from  each  other.  These  elements  of  air  have 
no  necessary  connection  with  each  other,  they  may  exist 
isolated,  they  may  combine,  separately  or  jointly,  with 
other  substances— the V  are  therefore  recoo:nized  as  dis- 
tinct  gases  or  original  atoms  of  matter.  On  the  other 
hand,  light  is  known  as  a  single  element,  though  it  may 
affect  our  senses  in  different  ways,  though  its  rays  may 
produce  different  colors  to  the  eye,  yet  they  are  all  rays 
of  light  /  for  notwithstanding  their  different  colors 
which  melt  into,  and  combine  with  each  other,  in 
shades  of  infinite  gradation  and  mixture,  still  all  these 
grades  possess  the  one  characteristic,  a  degree  of  white- 
ness, or  transparency,  which  is  properly  called  light. 
The  different  rays  are  merely  regarded  as  different 
kinds,  or  rather  grades  of  light ;  and  these  either  com- 
bined or  separated  (whatever  be  the  proportion)  always 
produce  ....  light ;  or  rather,  always  appear  to  be  the 
light.  They  are  therefore  considered  as  one  and  the 
same  element.  If  order,  life,  and  intellect,  like  the  ele- 
ments of  the  air,  were  different  essences  or  j^rinciples, 
we  would  sometimes  find  them  separate — sometimes 
entirely  isolated  from  each  other  ;  but  tlieir  union  (as  I 
will  show)  is,  like  that  of  colors  and  light,  inseparable 
and  co-existent :  and  they  may  well  be  designated  by 
the  single  appellation  I  have  already  used,  to  wit:  "  the 
m^ganizing  power." 

Vn.  In  the  Physical  w^orld,  when  atoms  of  matter 


288  HUMANICS. 

can  no  longer  be  divided  into  others  of  a  simpler  nature, 
the  atoms  so  found  to  defy  all  further  analysis,  are  con- 
sidered as  elements  of  matter.  In  the  spiritual  world, 
when  attributes  cannot  be  conceived  as  distinct  from 
each  other,  but  absolutely  require  a  simultaneous  pres- 
ence to  constitute  a  unity,  these  attributes  must  be 
considered  as  manifestations  of  the  same  entity. 

1.  I  am  not  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  the  house 
we  live  in,  tlie  furniture  it  contains,  the  clothes  which 
cover  us — and  in  fact  every  work  of  art,  (viewed  apart,) 
possesses  order  without  life  and  intellect,  that  the  vege- 
table kingdom  possesses  order  and  life  without  intellect ; 
but  it  is  this  apparent  contradiction  of  fact  with  my 
theory,  which,  when  explained  and  conciliated,  will 
form  its  clearest  demonstration  and  insure  its  triumph. 

Take  the  palace  we  live  in  as  an  example.  How 
does  it  exist,  with  its  beautiful  proportions  and  judicious 
divisions  ?  Was  it  not  intellect  that  planned,  and  life 
that  executed  the  work  ?  Without  the  living  intellectual 
man  who  did  the  work,  where  would  be  these  walls, 
these  chambers,  these  columns  ?  This  order  could  not 
exist  without  the  life  and  intellect  which  devised  and 
arranged  it ;  nor  could  it  be  preserved  without  the  action 
of  the  same  principles  which  brought  it  into  existence. 
Let  life  and  intellect  cease  to  inhabit  this  dome,  how 
soon  will  it  rot,  how  soon  crumble  into  dust.  The  mo- 
ment life  and  intellect  completed  their  work,  it  com 
menced  the  process  of  decay ;  and  its  total  ruin  is  only 
retarded  by  the  care  of  the  keepers.     The  separatior 


THOUGHT.  289 

of  life  and  intellect  from  the  order  they  created  was  the 
first  step  towards  total  decomposition.  Tliis  building 
now  rots  like  the  body  of  a  dead  man.  The  work  of 
destruction  may  be  sometimes  slow,  but  it  is  always 
certain. 

But  I  do  not  speak  with  sufficient  precision.  There 
is  a  distinction  to  be  drawn  between  Material  and 
tangible  order,  and  the  princij)le  or  essence  of  order. 
This  last  is  evidently  a  cause,  the  other  is  nothing  but 
an  effect.  The  material  order  of  this  palace  did  not 
exist  of  itself  or  by  chance  ;  it  had,  therefore,  a  cause, 
which  {jiidgi7ig  from  its  effects)  we  may  properly 
name  the  principle  of  order,  or  the  organizing  power. 
]N^ow  we  know  that  the  palace  was  built  by  an  architect 
possessing  life  and  intellect,  which  he  applied  to  the 
materials — we  know  also  from  ex23erience  that  decay 
is  going  on  in  every  part  of  the  building — however 
slow  the  operation,  however  apparent  the  duration. 
While  the  architect  performed  his  labor,  order  was  pro- 
duced; now  that  he  has  left,  the  formation  of  order 
has  ceased,  and  ruin  has  commenced.  Is  it  not  evident, 
therefore,  that  though  material  order  appears  to  continue, 
yet  the  principle  of  order  is  gone  ; — that  this  princi23le 
was  contained  in  the  man  who  formed  the  work  ;  that 
is  to  say  in  a  being  endowed  with  life  and  intellect  ? 
In  fact,  what  else  than  these  could  it  be  ?  Do  we  not 
all  know  from  experience  that  life  and  intellect  are 
the  only  powers  within  us  which  enable  us  to  produce 
order  ? 

19 


290  HUMANICS. 

2.  Is  not  intellect  in  man  the  principle  of  the  ma- 
terial order  he  produces?  Experience  answers,  yea. 
Can  there  exist  in  nature  two  j^rinciples  or  essences  of 
the  same  things  ?  Experience  and  Philosophy  answer, 
nay !  I  therefore  conclude,  there  cannot  exist  two 
principles  of  order ;  and  that  the  organizing  cause  which 
brings  forth  the  material  order  of  stones  and  plants,  is 
the  same  as  that  cause,  in  the  mind  of  man,  which 
when  it  acts,  creates  the  order  of  art,  literature,  and  sci- 
ence. 

In  proportion  to  the  excellence  of  the  exertion  of  his 
intellect,  does  man  produce  that  which  is  excellent  in 
his  works.  If  the  mental  operation  be  a  perfectly  in- 
tellectual one,  useful  plans  are  executed,  beautiful  de- 
signs are  embodied,  and  sublime  discoveries  are  made. 
Such  is  the  action  of  intellect,  such  are  the  indications 
by  which  the  presence  of  mind  is  known.  "We  are  con- 
scious of  no  other  cause,  we  can  conceive  of  no  other 
origin  of  material  order,  than  an  intellectual  cause ; 
for  we  see  that  order  is  only  an  intellectual  effect  pro- 
duced upon  matter.  But  we  know  that  life  cannot 
exist  w^ithout  this  intellectual  effect,  this  order,  which 
is  heaven's  first  law ;  and  without  which  the  vital  force, 
if  it  were  distinct,  and  did  not  necessarily  comprise  the 
organizing  and  intellectual  forces,  would  forever  float 
inertly  and  uselessly  in  the  midst  of  chaos. 

3.  If  we  contend  that  it  is  the  vital  principle  that 
develops  by  its  force  the  beatiful  symmetry  of  vegetable 
and  animal  nature,  we  give  to  it  the  same  function  as 


THOUGHT.  291 

intellect,  and  acknowledge  it  as  an  intellectual  power. 
If  we  assume  that  order  or  arrangement  determines  life 
— still,  as  intellect  is  the  essential  principle  of  order,  no 
arrangement,  adapted  to  the  design  of  receiving  and 
sustaining  life,  can  exist  without  mind,  to  conceive  and 
determine  the  form  it  shall  assume  as  well  as  the  modes 
and  means  of  its  duration. 

YIII.  I  have  shown  the  identity  of  order,  life,  and 
intellect.  I  have  shown  that  they  are  qualities,  phenom- 
ena, or  modes  of  one  great  principle  or  essence — let  me 
now  demonstrate  that  this  principle  or  essence  is  GOD ! 

IX.  Let  us  recapitulate. 

1".  We  have  endeavored  to  show  the  existence  of 
a  universal  organizing  power. 

2°.  We  have  argued  that  this  power  is  single — though 
it  appears  in  three  modes  to  the  organs  of  sense. 

X.  It  remains  for  us  to  meet  the  objection  of  ma- 
terialism ;  and  then,  to  demonstrate  this  organizing 
power  to  be  the  Divinity. 

XI.  The  materialists  contend  : 
That  order  is  necessity  : 

That  life  and  intellect  are  phenomena  produced  by 
the  action  of  the  component  parts  of  matter  upon  each 
other : 

That  order,  life,  and  intellect  are  effects  of  many 


292  HUMANICS. 

causes,  and  that  these  causes  are  certain  qualities  oi* 
properties  of  material  elements. 

Let  them  give  the  utmost  range  to  imagination, 
and  call  up  the  whole  arcana  of  supposition,  and  they 
will  find  only  two  alternatives  consistent  with  material- 
ism. 

The  first :  that  order,  life,  and  intellect  have  no  dis- 
tinct existence  of  their  own,  but  are  mere  chemical 
results  produced  by  the  combination  of  matter  with 
matter. 

The  second :  that  order,  life,  and  intellect  are  one  or 
more  distinct  substances  acting  chemically  upon  other 
SUBSTANCES,  and  producing  certain  efi'ects. 

Both  tliese  suppositions  can  be  shown  to  be  erro- 
neous. 

XII.  I  argue  thus  : 

I.  If  we  treated  the  assertion  of  the  suflSciency  of 
mere  chemical  action  to  produce  order,  life,  and  intellect 
in  the  same  spirit  as  the  materialist  treats  a  belief  in 
God — if  we  examined  the  doctrines  of  the  materialist 
with  the  same  rigor — what  would  become  of  his  philoso- 
phy ?  Let  us  call  upon  him  for  proof.  How  does  he 
know  that  tlie  mere  combination  of  various  particles  of 
matter,  arranged  in  a  certain  way,  will  produce  order, 
life,  and  intellect?  How  does  he  know  it  I  say  ?  Does 
he  not  deal  in  mere  hypothesis  ?  I  ask. 

Eeasoning  from  analogy  does  not  satisfy  him — it 
leads  to  mere  probabilities  or  possibilities — the  ma- 


THOUGHT.  293 

terialist  does  not  admit  evidence  which  tends  to  mere 
belief — ^he  contends  for  absolute  mathematical  proof — 
otherwise  he  would  be  forced  to  admit  the  beauty,  the 
force,  the  plausibility  of  the  arguments  of  Theistical 
sages,  poets,  and  orators ;  and  confess  that,  if  mere 
probability  or  analogy  were  sufficient,  he  would  be 
forced  to  admit  the  existence  of  God.  N^o,  says  he, 
when  the  order  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth  are  shown 
— it  does  not  suffice  that  you  should  conclude,  because 
man  makes  a  watch,  that  the  heavens  and  the  earth 
were  made  also ;  for  if  all  order  must  have  a  maker, 
who  made  the  maker  ?  Well,  then,  mere  analogy,  mere 
approximative  evidence,  is  not  enough,  proof  positive 
must  be  given,  so  that  man  may  say — '^  IJcnow.'^^ 

Where  is  there  such  proof  as  this  in  favor  of  the 
proposition,  that  order,  life,  and  intellect  are  mei'ely 
combinations  of  matter  ?  Such  is  the  proof  the  ma- 
terialist requires  from  the  Theist ;  and  such  is  the  proof 
materialism,  to  be  consistent  with  itself,  is  bound  to 
produce.  Thus  would  the  advocate  of  the  self-sufficiency 
of  matter — thus  would  he  who  asserts  the  eternity  and 
necessity  of  order,  resulting  from  the  properties  of  mat- 
ter alone,  be  silenced  by  his  own  favorite  phrase — "  How 
do  you  hiow  f  " 

II.  The  premises  upon  which  the  materialist  builds 
his  theory,  are  his  ignorance.  He  has  710  hiowledge  of 
any  thing  but  matter — therefore  he  concludes  there  is 
in  nature  nothing  but  matter.  What  logic  !  to  derive 
from  ignorance  a  theory  which  presumes  to  explain 


294  HUMANICS. 

the  profouiidest  secret  of  nature :  a  theory  which  pre- 
tends to  explain  eternal  and  universal  order.  As  well 
might  the  chief  of  some  savage  isle — ignorant  of  lands 
beyond  the  ocean  that  surrounds  his  narrow  dominion 
— assert  the  title  of — "  King  of  the  World."  Ignorance 
is  proof  of  nothing  :  it  can  only  hope  to  learn,  but  never 
to  teach. 

III.  And  can  it  be  pretended  that  we  know  enough 
of  the  chemical  j)roperties  of  matter  to  say  that  a  chem- 
ical combination,  a^^art  from  an  organizing  power  or 
essence,  suffices  to  produce  order,  life,  and  intellect  ? 
If  the  materialist  denies  his  ignorance,  and  presumes 
to  say  that  he  reasons  affirmatively  from  affirmative 
facts,  then  let  him  tell  us  the  ingredients  wherewith 
an  organized  being  may  be  formed,  and  endowed  with 
the  faculties  of  mind.  If  he  possesses  the  knowledge 
let  him  show  us  the  creature  his  science  has  produced, 
without  the  use  of  agents  to  him  mysterious,  intangible, 
and  unknown  ;  but  if  he  cannot  tell,  not  only  the 
component  parts,  but  the  proportions  and  process  of  the 
chemical  composition  to  which  he  attributes  such  won- 
derful effects,  then  let  him  stand  mute  when  the  organiz- 
ing, vivifying,  and  thinking  action,  in  nature,  is  sought 
to  be  explained. 

IV.  The  materialist,  w^hen  he  undertakes  to  de- 
monstrate his  propositions,  must  prove  them  by  our 
knowledge  of  matter,  its  properties  and  laws.  Indeed, 
from  the  very  nature  of  materialism,  these  are  the  only 
evidences  its  followers  have  a  right  to  advance.     To 


THOUGHT.  295 

tliem  the  phenomena  of  order,  life,  and  intellect  can 
only  present  questions  purely  chemical,  involving  the 
analyses  and  synthesis  of  mineral  and  vegetable  sub- 
stances. Within  this  circle  they  must  solve  the  problem 
of  organization,  vitality,  and  thought.  Science  (for  in 
science  alone  they  have  faith)  will  admit  of  no  chance- 
ful hypothesis  which  cannot  be  tested  by  experiment ; 
and  science  refuses  to  grant  them  a  favorable  solution. 
But  let  us  deal  with  liberality ;  let  us  take  the  theories 
of  materialism  as  they  are,  and  see  if  (apart  from  exact 
demonstration)  they  even  command  the  secondary  trib- 
ute of  belief.  I  say  they  do  not ;  and  all  nature  is 
my  witness. 

Y.  From  the  innumerable  facts  to  be  found  in 
natural  history,  and  which  rebut  entirel}^  the  opinion 
that  a  mere  combination  of  matter  is  sufficient  to  explain 
the  trine  phenomena — order,  life,  and  intellect,  let  us 
take  one  or  two  examples : 

1.  The  egg,  when  in  its  natural  state,  is  composed  of 
certain  elements.  The  quality  and  character  of  each 
of  these  are  exactly  ascertained  by  chemistry ;  and  it 
is  known  that  the  analysis  of  the  body  of  any  bird  will 
produce  precisely  the  same  elements,  without  any  dif- 
ference in  the  proportionate  quantities,  as  an  egg  of  the 
same  species  before  incubation. 

2.  ^Nothing  is  more  certain  tliat  if  an  egg  is  cut 
across  into  two  equal  parts  the  analysis  of  each  half 
will  produce  precisely  the  same  chemical  result ;  and 
yet,  when  incubation  takes  place,  it  will  be  found  that 


296  HUMANICS. 

one  of  the  halves  has  been  formed  into  the  liead  and  neck 
and  breast  and  wings,  while  tlie  other  lias  been  trans- 
formed into  legs,  abdomen,  and  tail ;  and  this  is  accom- 
plished withont  the  addition  of  materials  different  from 
those  composing  the  egg,  or  even  a  change  of  their  pro- 
portions ;  for,  as  I  have  already  said,  the  analysis  of  the 
flesh,  blood,  fibres,  and  feathers  of  the  bird  show  their 
component  parts  to  be  the  same  as  the  yolk  and  albumen 
of  the  egg. 

3.  In  the  human  body,  notwithstanding  the  differ- 
ence of  the  shape  of  the  several  parts — ^liead,  breast, 
abdomen,  arms,  legs,  hands,  and  feet,  it  is  found  that 
these  parts  are  composed  of  precisely  the  same  elemen- 
tary particles  of  matter,  without  difference  of  propor- 
tions. 

4.  It  is  also  observed  that  tlie  flesh,  blood,  and  fibres 
of  the  beast  of  the  field,  are  made  of  the  same  gaseous 
compounds  as  in  man.  That  the  egg  of  the  domestic 
fowl  is  composed  of  the  same  chemical  atoms  as  the 
body  of  a  human  being ;  and,  finally,  that  blood  is  the 
same,  in  material,  as  fiesh  ;  and  all  the  fibres  and  other 
tissues  of  the  body  have  the  same  basis  as  the  flesh  and 
blood.  Form  and  adaptation  vary  infinitely,  but  the 
elements  of  construction  are  ever  the  same ;  and,  what 
is  more  extraordinary,  always  in  substantially  the  same 
proportion  throughout. 

5.  In  fact,  this  uniformity  of  material  continues  even 
into  the  vegetable  kingdoms.  A  great  proportion  of 
the  plants  and  fruit  which  supply  animal  nature  with 


THOUGHr.  297 

food,  are  of  the  same  composition  as  the  bodies  which 
they  nourish  ;  and  yet,  in  other  forms,  these  same  com- 
pounds are  sometimes  fatal  to  life. 

G.  The  basis  of  all  organic  nature  consists  of  four 
gases,  well  known  to  chemists  as  the  material  out  of 
which  all  things  (vegetable  and  animal)  endowed  with 
life,  are  formed :  yet  these  elements  may  be  combined 
in  every  imaginable  proportion  (in  the  same  proportion 
in  which  they  are  found  in  the  living  animal  or  vegeta- 
ble) without  developing  the  phenomena  of  vitality. 
The  boiled  Qgg,  the  cooked  meat,  the  plucked  grain  or 
fruit,  the  dead  man  who  expired  yesterday,  all  contain 
the  same  elements  of  matter  as  when  throbbing  with 
life. 

7.  The  absence  of  life,  however,  it  seems,  leaves 
these  materials  without  any  formative  power.  Decom- 
position and  disorganization  (the  separation  and  dis- 
persement  of  the  elementary  particles)  follow,  as  if  the 
power  which  had  bound  them  and  arranged  them,  had 
departed. 

Now  take  these  facts  and  ponder  upon  them. 

YI.  It  is  a  law  of  the  material  world  that  like  causes 
always  produce  like  effects.  This  is  the  principle 
which  is  at  the  foundation  of  all  physical  science  ;  and 
if  it  did  not  hold  good,  there  could  be  no  such  things 
as  knowledge  and  reason.  Without  this  principle  no 
one,  on  seeing  an  act  or  phenomenon,  could  attribute  it 
to  any  definite  cause.  All  would  be  confusi  on  and 
doubt ;  and  man  could  never  have  trusted  to,  or  have 


298  HUMANICS. 

been  served  by,  tliat  inductive  pliilosoplij,  which  judg- 
ing of  cause  by  effect,  and  reposing  confidence  in  the 
uniformity  and  consistency  of  nature,  has  been  so  useful 
and  so  sure  a  guide  to  natural  science  and  physical  art. 
If,  then,  the  mere  combination  of  matter  be  the  cause  of 
organization  and  life,  whence  such  varied  effects  bo 
totally  dissimilar,  from  bo  definite  and  single  a  cause  as 
the  union  of  four  elements  in  one  certain  proportion  ? 
The  plants  of  the  earth,  the  birds  of  the  air,  the  brute 
and  the  man,  in  all  their  infinite  varieties  of  form  and 
character,  from  the  mushroom  to  the  oak,  from  the 
worm  to  the  eagle,  from  the  polypus  to  man,  all  possess 
the  same  organic  elements.  Thus  teaches  philosophy  ; 
and  therefore  philosophy  must  also  teach  that  these 
manifold  and  different  effects  cannot  be  produced  by 
the  same  identical  composition  of  matter.  The  matter 
may  serve  as  the  material ;  but  the  appearance  of  the 
same  material  shaped  into  frames  so  totally  unlike  one 
another,  must  be  attributed  to  something  else  than  the 
mere  chemical  affinity  ;  for  the  same  chemical  affinities, 
independent  of  other  operative  causes,  would  always  pro- 
duce the  same  result. 

Yll.  Two  or  more  chemical  ini]:redients  mixed  to- 
gether,  in  precisely  the  same  proportions,  are  frequent- 
1}'-  found  to  compose  substances  totally  different,  in  col- 
or, form,  taste,  and  other  proj)erties :  in  one  form  poi- 
sonous and  in  another  perfectly  innoxious.  What  then 
is  the  cause  of  these  different  characters  in  these  iden- 
tical mixtures  ?     The  inherent  properties  of  the  com- 


THOUGHT.  299 

pound  are  certainly  not  sufficient  to  explain  why  it 
takes  now  one  action  and  then  another.  To  say  that 
the  power  resides  in  the  material,  is  to  assert  that  mat- 
ter may  determine  its  own  form  and  modify  its  own 
properties ;  and  thus  to  award  it  a  power  of  volition 
and  choice,  which  no  knowledge  will  allow  us  to  admit ; 
and  which  if  acknowledged  would,  at  any  rate,  lead  to 
consequences  entirely  inconsistent  with  the  doctrines 
of  materialism  ;  for  if  we  admitted  this  power  of  volition 
in  matter,  we  would  have  to  say  that  the  suhstances  at 
one  end  of  an  egg  choose  to  form  themselves  into  head, 
wings,  &c.,  and  at  the  other  end  they  choose  to  take  the 
shape  of  legs,  tail,  &c.,  and  that  the  choices  of  these  sev- 
eral parts  were  so  connected  and  prescient,  so  adapted 
to  useful  purposes,  that  they  conceived  and  organized 
a  living  body,  wisely  adapted  to  the  great  fabric  of  na- 
ture, and  to  the  observance  of  nature's  laws.  Thus 
would  the  materialist  be  compelled  to  endow  a  com- 
position of  matter,  with  that  sublime  power  and  design, 
superior  to  the  intellect  of  man,  which  the  Theist  ac- 
knowledges to  belong  to  God  alone. 

YIII.  If  the  material  itself  were  endowed  with  this 
power,  then  man  by  putting  the  same  combination  to- 
gether would  produce  the  same  result  as  nature ;  but 
he  finds  the  compounds  he  arranges  totally  inert  so  far 
as  the  production  of  organization,  life,  and  intellect  are 
concerned.  Pure  physical  effects  are  all  that  he  can  at- 
tain, combustion  by  the  union  of  such  and  such  things, 
an  electric  current  by  this  and  that  fermentation,  mois- 


300  HUMANICS. 

ture,  &c.,  but  never  life  and  intellect,  where  they  did  not 
already  exist ;  and  even  if  he  could  create  or  develop 
these  by  an  artful  arrangement  and  mixture  of  matter, 
still  would  it  be  the  intellect  within  himself  using  the 
properties  of  bodies  as  the  instrument  of  knowledge  and 
reason.  If  with  the  crucible,  the  alembic,  certain  parts 
of  matter,  and  the  electric  current,  man  may  bring  forth 
an  organism,  (though  I  deny  his  ability  to  do  it,)  we 
would  still  have  to  credit  his  mind  with  the  result,  and 
consider  the  elements  and  other  means  employed  as 
the  passive  instrument  of  a  power  not  belonging  to 
them,  but  to  a  being  capable  of  exercising  an  action 
similar  to  the  infinite  wisdom  which  controls  the  uni- 
verse. 

IX.  But  as  if  to  show  how  completely  matter  is  only 
the  instrument  of  some  great  cause,  it  appears  that  life, 
in  the  vegetable  kingdom,  acts  in  a  form  totally  difi*erent 
from  the  animal.  Yegetables  generate  oxygen  and 
animals  consume  it ;  and  it  seems  that  this  generating 
on  one  hand,  and  this  consumption  on  the  other,  are 
necessary  to  the  maintenance  of  life  in  the  respective 
organisms.  The  action  which  maintains  life  in  the  vege- 
table would  destroy  it  in  the  animal ;  the  fish  and  the 
beast  require  different  elements ;  other  animals  exist 
indifi'erently  in  air  or  water  ;  some  feed  on  grass  alone, 
others  devour  only  flesh  ;  while  many  eat  flesh  and  grass 
together : — so  that  organization  and  life  do  not  depend 
upon  any  peculiar  process  of  action ;  for,  the  process 
varies,  and  yet  organization    and  life   are  produced. 


THOUGHT.  301 

Kor  does  any  one  process  always  develop  the  same  form 
of  action  or  existence  ;  for,  aquatic  animals  differ  as 
in  the  crab  and  whale ;  those  that  require  the  aerial 
fluid  differ,  as  the  bird,  the  beast,  the  man ;  and  these 
again  when  every  process  and  condition  of  life  seems 
to  be  identical,  differ  in  their  form  and  mode  of  exist- 
ence— among  the  herbivora  we  find  the  sheep  and  the 
horse — the  carnivora  include  the  eagle  and  the  tiger — 
the  omnivora,  the  swine  and  the  man. 

X.  Indeed,  physics  and  chemistry. do  not  afford,  by 
the  compounds,  combinations,  or  processes  of  matter, 
any  solution  to  the  phenomena  of  life.  The  same 
ingredients  and  proportions  of  matter  are  found  to  com- 
pose inanimate  as  well  as  animate  bodies.  The  same 
process  and  conditions  of  matier  are  found  to  belong  to 
different  forms  and  modes  of  life. 

XL  To  show  how  utterly  absurd  it  is  to  suppose 
that  all  physical  order  or  organization  might  be  the 
blind  and  unintelligent  action  of  matter  upon  matter, 
I  will  adduce  one  more  instance.  I  find  it  in  the  dis- 
tinction of  the  sexes,  and  in  the  adaptation  of  the  sexes 
TO  EACH  OTHEE.  "What  formative  force  is  there  in  mat- 
ter itself  to  produce  not  only  two  sexes,  but  to  adapt 
one  to  the  other,  so  beautifully  and  wondrotisly  ?  The 
materialists  in  this  case  would  vainly  urge  their  favorite 
examples :  showing,  for  instance,  that,  by  dint  of  use 
and  in  the  course  of  time,  organs  and  members  adapt 
themselves  to  the  things  and  influences  by  which  they 
are  surrounded — the  reindeer,  they  say,  gradually  be- 


302  HUMANICS. 

comes  adapted  to  the  arctic  cold  and  moss  food— -the 
camel's  foot  and  his  ability  to  resist  thirst,  they  say,  is 
not  produced  by  divine  intention,  but  by  the  continued 
action  of  desert  sands  and  heat — one  moulding  itself 
(ex  necessitate  rei)  to  the  influence  of  the  other.  But 
how  would  their  absurd  argument  apply  to  the  com- 
bined difi'erence  and  accord  of  the  sexes  ?  Two  indi- 
viduals are  born  at  different  times,  and  from  different 
wombs :  there  they  are,  separate  and  independent 
organisms,  never  before  in  contact,  and  yet  when  they 
do  meet,  it  becomes  evident  that  one  is  made  for  the 
other,  and  that  the  two  (though  so  distinct)  are  but  the 
components  of  one  idea — the  harmonious  instruments 
of  a  preconceived  and  nnital  design.       *       *       * 

The  laws  of  matter  are,  therefore,  not  the  laws  of 
life ;  but  the  vivifying  principle  evidently  acts  upon 
and  governs  matter,  imparting  j^roperties  and  power 
unpossessed  before.  The  elements  of  matter  do  not 
produce  organization,  for  they  are  passive  to  organiza- 
tion. 

XII.  If,  therefore,  the  living  organization  is  not  the 
effect  of  a  combination  of  matter,  we  may  conclude  that 
it  belongs  to  an  independent  cause  or  principle  ;  but 
before  inquiring  into  the  nature  of  this  cause  or  prin- 
ciple, I  will  again  revert  to  the  laws  of  physics  to  sup- 
port this  conclusion. 

a.  "When  the  Naturalist  sees  the  same  phenomena 
appearing  within  dissimilar  bodies,  he  attributes  (for 
reasons  already  alluded  to)  differences  to  distinct  causes, 


THOUGHT.  303 

and  similarities  to  similar  causes.  Liglit,  heat,  gravi- 
tation, electricity,  appear  in  bodies  which  seem  to  have, 
in  other  respects,  nothing  else  but  these  phenomena  in 
common.  Light  shines  in  the  Sun,  in  the  lamp,  in  the 
flame  of  gas,  in  the  volcanic  lava,  in  the  heated  metal; 
yet  no  philosoj)her  presumes  for  an  instant  to  suppose 
that  the  light  which  appears  in  one  form  is  difl:erent 
from  that  which  appears  in  another.  Heat  is  found  in 
a  thousand  forms  and  in  bodies  having  no  affinities 
with  each  other — fire,  water,  sunshine,  friction,  chemi- 
cal mixtures,  iron,  wood,  gas, — all  contain  heat ;  and 
none  will  seek  in  compounds  having  no  elements  in 
common,  the  cause  of  an  identical  effect  produced  with- 
in them  all ;  but  will  rather  attribute  the  common  phe- 
nomena to  a  common  principle,  having  properties  of 
its  own,  and  imparting  these  properties  to  all  bodies 
simple  and  compound  without  distinction.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  gravitation  and  electricity ;  for  who  w^ill 
pretend  that  these  do  not  exist  independently  of  the 
atoms  upon  which  they  act  ?  Electricity  can  be  con- 
Teyed  from  one  substance  to  the  other — from  the  clouds 
to  the  earth,  wdth  instantaneous  rapidity ;  and  gravita- 
tion throws  her  eternal  chain  from  suns  to  planets, 
through  the  immensity  of  space.  If,  then,  we  are  guided 
by  the  rules  of  natural  philosophy  we  are  bound  to  con- 
clude that  organization,  life,  and  intellect  (which  do  not 
appear  to  belong  more  than  light,  heat,  gravitation,  and 
electricity,  to  the  substances,  combinations,  forms,  or 
processes  in  which  they  act)  are  a  distinct  substance 
^r  spirit,  having  an  action  and  properties  of  its  own. 


304  HUMANICS. 

1).  Substance  or  spirit?  Here  is  the  difficulty.  The 
materialist  will  find,  after  all,  no  great  obstacle  in  at- 
tributing organization,  life,  and  intellect  to  the  opera- 
tions of  a  single  siibstance  /  but  the  word  spirit^  has  for 
him  no  meaning — it  shocks  his  understanding.  Recon- 
cile him  with  this  word,  and  the  difficulty  between  him 
and  religion  is  settled.  Show  him  tlie  %(iord  spirit  to 
be  the  most  appropriate  to  describe  the  principle  of 
order,  life,  and  intellect,  and  he  is  converted.  Substance 
or  matter  implies  something  corporeal,  and  directly 
perceptible  to  the  senses  or  to  any  one  of  them.  To 
affect  the  senses  is  not  enough  ;  the  thing  must  be  also 
corjporeal  to  be  entitled  to  the  appellation  of  matter. 
For  instance,  sound  is  a  thing  which  affects  the  senses, 
and  it  certainly  is  not  itself  matter,  but  an  effect  pro- 
duced by  a  certain  action  upon  matter.  It  also  remains 
doubtful  if  attraction  is  a  material  cause  ;  for  its  being 
perceptible  merely  by  the  weight  of  all  things,  is  not 
of  itself  sufficient  to  stamp  it  with  that  corporeal  quality 
which  distinguishes  matter.  The  weight  produced  by 
gravitation  is  not  gravitation  itself,  no  more  than  sound 
is  the  body  from  whence  it  proceeds.  If,  then,  we  can- 
not with  propriety  call  gravitation  a  substance,  how 
then  shall  w^e  call  it  ?  We  cannot  say  that  it  is  an  ef- 
fect, for  we  perceive  it  always  acting  as  a  cause  /  and 
therefore  ^\Q  may  class  it  among  the  primitive  essences 
or  spirits  of  nature.  In  fact,  the  word  spirit  is  under- 
stood even  in  a  more  extended  sense  than  this.  It  is 
frequently  applied  to  things  which  are  volatile,  and 


THOUGHT.  305 

active.  In  religion  it  is  only  nsed  in  a  negative  sense, 
to  describe  the  nature  of  God  as  not  partaking  of  the 
known  qualities  of  matter  ;  and  to  express  how  imper- 
ceptible the  divinity  must  be  to  our  senses  of  sight,  hear- 
ing, taste,  odor,  and  touch.  In  this  acception,  the  gas 
called  nitrogen  might  be  called  a  sjpirit  /  for  it  is  not 
cognizable  by  any  of  the  senses ;  and  its  presence  is 
only  known  by  induction.  When  we  saj^  that  God  is 
an  immaterial  being  we  only  express  a  negative  idea, 
wdiich  is  that  the  qualities  of  matter  are  not  embraced 
in  his  beino".  He  exists — he  is  a  beinfy — but  his  inode 
of  existence  we  do  not,  we  cannot  know.  We  speak  of 
him  as  a  blind  man  does  speak  of  light,  as  the  deaf  of 
sound.  The  blind  know  that  something  exists  which 
is  called-  light ;  which  serves  to  guide  those  who  lead 
the  blind.  The  blind  experience  dail}^  this  important 
difference  between  them  and  other  men,  and  thev  are 
forced  to  acknowledge  that  there  exists  a  means  of 
perceiving,  of  which  they  can  form  no  conception. 
The  deaf  know  nothing  of  sound,  yet  they  constantly 
see  its  powers  exerted:  they  see  only  effects;  and 
though  they  cannot  define  the  cause,  and  though  it  is 
beyond  the  direct  powers  of  their  sensorium,  they  must 
admit  its  existence.  In  the  same  way,  persons  may  be 
born  without  the  sense  of  smell  and  taste,  and  ascertain 
clearly  by  induction,  that  others  have  natural  means, 
wdiich  they  have  not,  to  discover  certain  qualities  and 
existences.      The}'"  find  that  others  can  tell,  not  only 

that  nnseen  flowers  are  near  ;  but  also  they  find  that 
20 


306  HUMANICS. 

the  name  of  those  flowers,  by  some  mysterious  agency, 
is  divulged.  Wine  is  distinguished  from  water,  though 
darkness  pervades  around ;  and  the  man  who  has  never 
been  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  taste  must  acknowl- 
edge, in  his  fellow-being,  the  presence  of  a  faculty  to 
him  refused  by  nature.  In  these  examples,  colors  or 
light,  the  aroma  of  plants  or  the  pestilential  exhalations 
of  dead  bodies,  the  flavor  of  rich  viands  or  the  bitter 
properties  of  gall,  might  be  looked  upon  as  having  no 
material  existence  with  regard  to  those  thus  deprived 
of  all  power  to  perceive  them,  as  parts  or  properties  of 
matter.  IS'ow  in  the  same  way,  if  we  give  the  most 
extensive  sense  to  the  word  "  immaterial^''  and  define 
it  to  embrace  all  things,  not  corporeal,  be^^ond  the  di- 
rect cognizance  of  the  five  senses  of  man,  and  all  things 
which  he  knows  to  exist  only  by  induction,  then  we 
will  no  longer  be  shocked  at  the  idea  conveyed  by  the 
word  sjyirit^  in  contradistinction  with  substance  or  mat- 
ter as  explained  above. 

c.  But  if  aught  immaterial  can  exist,  may  there  not 
be  a  spirit,  an  entity,  existing  as  a  being,  and  endowed 
with  faculties  even  greater  than  those  of  man  ?  May 
we  not  call  this  being  God ;  and  by  observing  the 
operations  of  this  being  upon  nature,  may  we  not  ascer- 
tain what  attributes  to  him  appertain  ?  A  sixth  sense, 
if  given  to  us,  for  that  purpose,  might  enable  us  to  be- 
hold the  beauty  and  glory  of  the  divine  existence, 
spreading  its  ethereal  essence  throughout  the  universe, 
and  working  the  celestial  machinery  of  heaven  ;  but 


THOUGHT.  307 

until  this  sixth  sense  is  imparted,  or  until  it  disencum- 
bers itself  of  the  thick  veil  of  earth  which  obscures  it, 
we  must  content  ourselves  with  the  inductions  afforded 
by  our  present  powers  of  observation  ;  and  bless  the 
faculty  of  reason  which  enables  us  to  infer  a  God,  and 
which  connects  us  with  HIS  nature. 

d.  If,  however,  these  words — mere  words  are  they 
— ''  immaterial,"  "  spiritual,"  &c.,  are  still  offensive  to 
the  ears  of  the  materialist,  let  us  for  a  moment  argue 
without  them  ;  and  see  what  conclusion  we  may  reach, 
from  the  facts  ascertained.  We  have  already  shown 
that  neither  combination,  form,  nor  process  of  matter 
are  sufficient  to  explain  the  existence  of  organization, 
vitality,  and  mind.  We  have  concluded  that  these 
must  depend  upon  a  separate  cause,  acting  upon  the 
materials  used,  and  determinating  their  form  and  action. 
AVell,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  let  the  separate  cause 
be  considered  as  material ;  and  then  let  us  inquire  what 
consequences  will  follow  ? 

1.  The  cause  of  order  must  be  universal,  it  must  per- 
vade immensity ;  the  unbounded  regions  which  are  filled 
with  myriads  upon  myriads  of  suns  and  planets,  rolling 
harmoniously  in  tracks  assigned  to  each,  and  wisely 
combined  to  prevent  collision  and  confusion,  proclaim 
the  presence  of  the  principle  of  order  throughout  all 
space. 

2.  The  cause  of  order  must  be  a  unit ;  for,  its 
operations  are  not  diverse,  as  the  operations  of  separate 
units.     It  tends  to  a  single  object,  and  produces  a  sin- 


308  HUMANICS. 

gle  effect : — order.  Different  and  separate  agents  of 
order  would  probably  clasli  in  their  operations,  unless 
we  suppose  them  to  consult  and  concert  with  each  other, 
as  so  many  distinct  divinities,  always  agreeing,  never 
dissenting,  and  having  one  purpose  in  view.  This,  in 
fact,  would  constitute  a  mental  unit}'.  We  could  not 
know  of  its  parts,  or  apportion  each  to  itself,  no  more 
than  conceive  of  the  existence  and  life  of  a  man's  head 
apart  from  his  body ;  and  we  thus  find,  after  all,  that  it 
would  not  aid  the  cause  of  materialism,  to  admit  a 
theory  which  would  constitute  a  physical  organizing 
cause,  acting  by  a  union  of  many  parts,  as  essential  to 
each  other  as  the  heart,  the  lungs,  the  sensorium  of  the 
human  body,  are  to  the  individual  they  compose.  The 
forms  of  order  are  infinite ;  but  the  idea  of  order  is  one. 
We  might  rather  separate  gravitation  into  separate  en- 
tities, than  divide  order  (the  first  law  or  principle  of 
nature)  into  more  existences  than  one.  We  see  a  single 
effect  and  a  single  purpose — we  therefore  infer  a  single 
cause. 

3.  The  cause  of  order  must  be  powerful.  And  here 
need  I  stop  to  observe  that  the  agent  which  governs  the 
circuit  of  worlds,  organizes  the  insect,  and  illumines  the 
sun,  must  be  infinitely  powerful  ? 

4.  The  cause  of  order  must  be  intellectual.  This  is 
the  plainest  and  most  important  part  of  my  argument. 
It  seems  almost  self-evident  that  none  but  an  intellectual 
agent  or  power  could  arrange,  adapt,  and  move  the 
universe,  in  all  its  immensity,  in  all  its  details.     But 


THOUGHT.  309 

let  us  follow  tlie  method  we  have  hitherto  pursued,  and 
see  if  the  fair  inference  and  the  inductive  reasoning  of 
natural  philosophy,  do  not  establish  the  proposition  I 
advance.  Like  causes  produce  like  effects.  Intellect 
in  man,  when  it  acts,  produces  order.  Here,  then, 
is  a  positive  cause,  within  our  certain  knowledge,  pro- 
ducing certain  definite  effects :  adaptation  and  useful 
arrangement — effects  indicating  a  rational  plan  in  the 
operator.  A  house,  an  engine,  a  hook  are  produced 
from  conception  and  design  in  man.  Why  then  should 
we  look  for  a  different  cause,  in  the  works  of  nature,  as 
producing  results  essentially  similar  to  these  ?  Do  they 
not  equally  appear  to  arise  from  conception  and  design  ? 
Not  only  it  is  a  correct  principle  of  natural  philosophy 
to  say  that  like  causes  produce  like  results ;  but  it  is 
also  correct  and  philosophical  to  hold  that  nature  does 
not  employ  different  powers  to  produce  similar  effects, 
and  that  she  does  not  capriciously  use  now  one  power, 
now  another,  for  identical  purposes,  but  that  she  is 
economical  and  constant  in  the  agent  she  employs. 
This  is  established  by  experience,  and  is  proved  by  the 
known  consistency  and  simplicity  of  the  laws  of  nature ; 
and  therefore,  when  we  know  that  the  intellect  within 
us  is  the  conceiver  and  disposer  of  order,  we  may  fairly 
contend  that  intellect  is  the  universal  principle  of  or- 
der, wherever  order  appears.  Is  intellect  confined  to 
the  animal  organism — to  the  brain  of  man  ?  Let  each 
of  us  ask  himself  if  intellect  is  confined  to  his  own 
brain  ?  we  all  answer  no ;  as  regards  ourselves,  each  of 


310  HUMANICS. 

US  has  long  ago  ascertained  (however  great  and  wise 
he  may  be)  that  he  is  not  alone  tlie  dej^ository  of  the 
intellectual  power.  How  do  we  judge  our  fellow- 
creatures  possess  thought  ?  Other  men  perform  the 
same  acts  that  we  do,  the  effects  they  produce  are  applied 
to  similar  uses,  we  understand  them  when  they  reason 
and  base  conclusion  upon  facts.  We  see  plainly  that 
their  acts  are  determined  from  mental  operations,  and 
that  when  they  do  any  thing  they  observe,  they  think, 
they  form  a  design,  and  in  the  ratio  of  the  perfection 
of  their  observations,  thoughts,  and  plans,  so  is  the  per- 
fection of  their  work — this  we  observe  to  be  the  case 
with  ourselves ;  and  we  conclude,  that  all  men  are  en- 
dowed with  the  same  intellectual  faculties  which  gov- 
ern us.  And  why  not  carrj^  this  inductive  process  fur- 
ther ;  and  if  we  see  intellectual  effects  throughout  na- 
ture, what  reason  can  w^e  allege  for  not  attributing  those 
effects  to  an  intellectual  cause  ?  But  when  we  find  in 
nature  a  cause  or  power  that  observes  better  than  we 
do,  that  foresees  better  than  we  do,  how  can  w^e  (frail 
and  transient  depositories  of  the  limited  and  obscure 
spark  of  human  reason)  strut  with  pride  as  the  sole 
possessors  of  mind,  and  assign  the  infinitely  superior 
operations  we  behold  around  us,  to  blind  combinations 
of  matter  ?  In  the  power  which  governs  the  formation 
of  the  animal  organism,  the  w^onders  of  earth,  water, 
air,  and  fire — in  the  equilibrium  and  motion  of  planetary 
systems,  can  we  refuse  to  behold  the  action  and  purposes 
of  infinite  reason  ?     We  allow  reason  to  the  inventor 


THOUGHT.  311 

of  the  bow,  to  the  discoverer  of  alphabetic  writing,  how 
can  we  deny  it  to  the  formative  power  of  worlds — to 
the  principle  or  spirit  of  universal  order  ? 

XIII.  Thus  do  we  see  that  even  if  the  cause  of  or- 
der, life,  and  intellect,  be  material,  that  cause  is 

1°.  Universal. 

2^  Single. 

3°.  Powerful. 

4°.  Intellectual.  > 

Infinity,  unity,  omnipotence,  and  wisdom — these 
are  the  attributes  of  God,  be  he  spirit  or  matter  ;  and 
now,  presumptuous  materialist,  bow  down  thy  head  with 
humiliation  while  I  raise  my  hands  and  voice  in  adora- 
tion. Let  this  being  be  for  you  a  material  essence  or 
principle,  yet  remember  that  it  is  the  fountain  of 
thought — the  MIKD  which  governs  all.  Such  a  being 
I  prefer  to  distinguish  from  the  grovelling  creatures 
and  things  perceptible  to  sense  ;  and  I  call  it  or  HIM 
a  spirit ;  and  thus  shall  I  name  him,  and  adore  him, 
until  he  can  be  bottled  like  gas,  or  decomposed  like  air- 

XIY.  But  let  us  suppose  that  the  atheist  or  ma- 
terialist is  right  in  asserting  that  order,  life,  and  intellect 
are  but  the  effects  of  matter — the  result  of  certain 
combinations  which  occur  of  necessity,  and  act  in  a  cer- 
tain rotation — still  would  I  contend  that  such  combi- 
nations (if  they  exist  to  produce  the  phenomena  of 
organization,  vitality,  and   thought)  must   necessarily 


312  HUMANICS. 

constitute  a  single,  infinite,  eternal,  intellectual,  and 
powerful  existence  or  body  ;  and  tliat,  therefore,  lie  who 
rejects  a  spiritual  God  is  comi)elled  to  accept  a  material 
one. 

1.  Is  it  single  and  infinite?  If  the  order  of  the 
universe  be  the  effect  of  a  material  compound,  that 
compound  must  either  be  co-extensive  with  nature,  or 
spread  its  influence  (by  some  medium  or  other)  through- 
out the  universe.  The  materialist  cannot  himself  sup- 
pose more  than  one  gi'Qixi  physical  vaotov  of  the  universe, 
more  than  one  imiversal  compound  controlling  all 
others;  for,  if  there  existed  many  such  combinations  or 
motors  capable  of  producing  and  moving  Avorlds,  then 
accident  or  necessity  might  develop  new  systems,  in 
the  midst  of  the  present  infinite  harmony  of  nature,  so 
as  to  destroy  the  existing  order  of  things — new  and 
disturbing  effects  might  be  indefinitely  multiplied  ;  and 
confusion,  collision,  and  chaos  would  take  place.  The 
concordance  of  all  things  to  one  great  plan  or  design 
displays  the  action  of  a  single  power,  superior  to  all 
others,  and  preventing  all  others  from  interrupting, 
changing,  or  destroying  its  course.  That  its  influence 
is  not  limited  by  space,  but  extends  to  the  most  distant 
of  stars  and  embraces  all  nature,  is  evident  when  we 
consider  that  the  physical  power  which  (controls  the 
fixed  stars,  shining  millions  and  millions  of  distances 
beyond  the  reach  of  human  vision  or  telescope)  exists 
in  an  absolute  and  continued  agreement,  not  only  with 
the  physical  power  of  the  planet  we  inhabit,  but  also 


THOUGHT.  313 

with  the  power  acting  upon  all  other  systems  and 
planets,  so  as  to  produce  the  most  beautiful  and  com- 
plete harmony.  To  apportion  these  effects  among  va- 
rious and  distinct  powers,  is  to  suppose  that  which  can- 
not be  proved ;  is  to  admit  that  which  is  contrary  to 
philosophical  experience  and  to  the  plainest  laws  of 
reason  and  consistency.  We  might  with  as  much  plausi- 
bility suppose  that  the  movements  of  the  different  parts 
and  members  of  the  human  body  are  each  under  the 
influence  and  regulation  of  a  different  and  distinct  brain. 
2.  Is  this  combination  of  matter  which  the  ma- 
terialist assumes,  eternal  f  It  is  ;  for  it  may  be  traced 
back  by  geology  and  astronomy  to  countless  ages,  and 
naught  seems  to  threaten  its  continued  duration.  The 
geologists  have  hardly  pierced  the  rind  of  the  earth, 
and  yet  counting  the  formation,  one  above  the  other, 
of  the  few  strata  as  yet  discovered,  they  may  count 
ages  upon  ages  of  past  duration ;  but  they  remain  con- 
scious that  they  have  plunged  only  the  tij^s  of  their 
fingers  into  the  fathomless  depth  of  time ;  and  that 
countless  periods  of  the  history  of  suns  and  stars  must 
ever  remain  unnumbered,  and  beyond  the  scope  of 
human  conception.  Nor  can  the  materialist  conceive 
an  end  to  the  compound  of  elements  which  he  supposes 
to  have  done  this  work.  He  cannot  suppose  that  the 
cause  which  has  operated  so  uniformly  and  continually 
for  millions  of  centuries,  without  derangement,  and 
which  has  followed  in  all  its  changes  a  progressive 
chain  of  cause  and  effect,  should  have  been  the  result 


314  HUMANICS. 

of  accident — of  accident  which  in  its  nature  is  transient, 
versatile,  incongruous,  and  unconnected.  The  ma- 
terialist supposes,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  order  of  the 
universe  is  the  necessary  effect  of  the  elements  of  mat- 
ter ;  and  therefore,  to  suppose  an  end  of  this  order,  is  to 
suppose  a  cessation  of  the  necessary  consequences  of 
the  essential  projDerties  of  matter — or  the  annihilation 
of  matter  itself — neither  of  which  hypotheses  any  atheist 
or  materialist  can  possibly  admit.  The  eternity,  there- 
fore, of  the  cause  of  order  (be  it  matter,  combination, 
action,  or  spirit)  must  remain  undisputed,  by  men  of 
all  colors  and  shades  of  opinion. 

3.  That  the  cause  of  order,  though  it  be  a  material 
compound,  must  be  intellectual  and  j^owerfvl^  may  be 
demonstrated  by  the  reason,  already  given,  to  show 
that  a  sjyiritual  cause  of  order  must  be  endowed  with 
the  properties  of  mind. 

*  If  I  call  the  building  of  an  engine  an  intellectual 
oj^eration,  performed  through  physical  means,  I  must, 
from  the  very  nature  of  things,  call  the  formation  of  a 
planetary  system  an  intellectual  work.  The  works  of 
man  and  the  works  of  nature  bear,  both  of  them, 
miequivocal  signs  of  derivation  from  a  similar  origin. 

*  The  presence  of  mind  is  known  by  the  phenomena 
its  action  produces.  We  possess  mind  within  ourselves, 
we  see  its  operation  around  us,  in  the  action  and  w^ords 
of  other  men  ;  and  in  the  same  way  tliat  we  recognize 
its  i)resence  in  men,  do  we  recognize  its  presence  in 
nature. 


THOUGHT.  315 

*  We  know  that  mind  possesses  certain  properties, 
which  belong  to  no  other  process  or  thing.  These 
properties  are,  principally,  computation  and  design. 
It  is  by  the  appearance  of  these  properties  that  we 
ascertain  the  presence  of  mind,  just  as  we  discover  the 
presence  of  Heat,  Electricity,  or  Gravitation,  by  the  pe- 
culiar nature  of  its  action. 

*  Mind  is  the  only  cause,  within  our  exjyerience, 
which  we  know  is  capable  of  conceiving  and  j^roducing 
continued  links  of  intelligent  and  useful  order  and  de- 
sign ;  and  therefore,  when  we  perceive  this  conception 
and  these  effects  to  be  universal,  we  must  admit  the 
existence  of  the.  mind  of  nature,  just  as  we  admit  the 
existence  of  the  mind  of  man. 

*  Reason  can  commune  with,  and  understand  only, 
that  which  is  reasonable  ;  .  .  .  that  which  acts  by  rules 
and  motors  similar  to  its  own ;  and  therefore,  if  an  act 
or  effect  be  produced  by  other  laws,  it  appears  to  rea- 
son only  as  creative  of  disorder  and  destruction ;  if 
language  is  spoken  otherwise  than  according  to  the 
laws  of  reason,  it  is  unintelligible  to  the  reason  of  all 
men,  and  appears  to  be  confused  and  erroneous.  The 
course  of  nature  appears  to  reason  to  be  consistent,  or- 
derly, and  correct :  it  therefore  acts  according  to,  and  is 
administered  by,  the  laws  of  reason. 

*  The  madman  seems  governed  by  an  incorrect 
knowledge  of  things — false  impression,  defective  pow- 
er of  comparison,  and  a  consequent  inability  to  form  a 
design  of  action  consistent  with  nature  and  experience : 


316  HUMANICS. 

we  say,  therefore,  that  he  is  bereft  of  reason.  If  thus 
we  conclude  that  the  madman  is  divested  of  intellect, 
in  the  same  way  must  we  argue  that  nature  is  not  de- 
prived of  reason. 

*  If  the  works  of  reason  alone  appear  rational  to 
reason,  it  follows  that  the  works  of  nature  are  performed 
by  a  rational  power  ;  for,  if  it  were  not  so,  it  is  evident, 
from  the  nature  of  things,  that  these  works  would  be 
unintelligible  to  the  human  mind :  unless  we  suppose 
that  that  which  is  reasonable  may  continuously  and 
forever  be  performed  by  a  reasonless  power. 

*  If  the  works  of  nature  are  not  rational  works,  then 
they  are  irrational ;  but  if  they  are  irrational,  we  could 
not  comprehend  them  ;  yet  we  do  comprehend  them, 
therefore  they  are  not  irrational — therefore  they  are 
rational — therefore  they  are  derived  from  a  reasoning 
power. 

*  Though  the  materialist  considers  thought,  in  man^ 
not  to  be  a  distinct  thing  like  heat,  electricity,  or  gravi- 
tation ;  though  he  contends  that  the  mind  of  man  is  but 
an  effect  of  a  compound  of  elements ;  still  the  existence 
of  that  mind,  as  an  entity  in  each  individual,  must  be 
admitted ;  and,  therefore,  by  an  analogous  and  consist- 
ent reason,  must  he  admit  (though  as  a  result  of  a 
composition  of  matter)  the  existence  of  the  mind  of  na- 
ture— which  must  last,  as  a  unit,  as  long  as  its  ele- 
ments remain  toojether  and  continue  their  healthv 
action. 

*  But  we  have  shown,  even  according  to  the  dogmas 


THOUGHT.  317 

of  atheism  or  materialism,  tlie  order  of  nature  to  be 
eternal  and  infinite — that  the  materialist  cannot  sup- 
pose the  harmony  of  the  universe  to  be  dissolved,  tin- 
less  he  admits  the  annihilation  of  matter  or  its  proper- 
ties. We  therefore  say  that  the  mind  of  nature,  though 
it  be  an  effect  of  matter,  is  hmnortal^  and  cannot  dis- 
appear, like  the  limited  mind  of  an  individual,  by  a  sep 
aration  of  atoms  ;  for  matter,  according  to  the  material- 
ists, doth  fill  all  sjyace^  and  its  action  npon  itself  can- 
not cease,  nnless  these  chemical  affinities,  of  which  ma- 
terialism doth  boast  so  much,  doth  also  cease  to  exist. 

*  If  the  properties  of  matter  were  distinct  from 
the  substance  itself,  then  the  materialist  or  atheist 
could  no  more  deny  that  eeason  (which  he  considers 
the  property  of  a  certain  compound  of  matter)  would 
also  be  distinct  from  that  compound  of  which  it  would 
be  a  property  ;  so  he  contends  not  only  that  matter  or 
the  compound  of  matter  fills  all  space,  but  that  the 
properties  of  matter  are  not  distinct,  but  identical 
with  the  material  particles  themselves.  It  follows  that 
the  action  of  the  properties  of  matter  must  continue  as 
long  as  matter  exists,  and  that  no  separation  can  ever 
take  place ;  for,  if  matter  or  its  efi'ect  fills  all  space, 
w^here  wall  one  portion  go  to  escape  the  influence  of 
the  other  ?  And  thus,  though  infinite  reason  be  but  a 
property  or  effect,  it  cannot  die  until  the  infinity  of 
matter  endetli  also. 

*  The  materialist  may  seek  if  he  chooses  the  com- 
ponent elements  of  this  infinite   reason  which  is  co- 


318  HUMANICS. 

equal  with  infinito  timey  sjxtce,  and  matter^  and  show 
how  it  is  produced.  We  bid  him  speed  in  his  work  ; 
but  while  he  labors,  the  Thcist  remains  satisfied  with 
the  fact  that  the  mind  of  nature  doth  live.  The  form 
and  mode  of  that  life  is  a  mystery,  which  the  heated 
and  distorted  imagination  of  atheism  may  attempt  to 
solve;  but  this  very  attempt  is  an  admission  of  ITS 
EXISTENCE. 

XY.  1.  Not  being  able  to  deny  the  existence  of 
this  all-pervading  and  rational  power,  it  remains  for 
the  consistent  materialist  to  explain,  how  the  power 
which  controls  all  matter  was  produced  by  matter — 
how  the  effect  can  govern  and  control  its  cause — ^how, 
before  reason  existed,  (for  if  reason  be  but  an  effect,  it 
once  did  not  exist,  for  its  cause  must  have  produced  it,) 
how,  before  reason  existed,  I  say,  blind  and  reasonless 
matter  could  have  produced  so  perfect  and  rational  an 
existence  as  the  governing  power  of  the  universe  must 
be — how  rational  effects  could  precede  a  rational  cause 
— how  the  force  was  created  by  tlie  object  it  directs 
and  moves — how  a  rational  existence,  bearing  all  the 
outward  marks  of  design  which  a  physical  God  must 
bear,  could  have  been  before  reason  itself  existed  ;  and 
how  the  most  wonderful  results  of  design  may  be  pro- 
duced by  the  blind  constituents  of  matter,  and  how  a 
power  inferior  to  the  intellect  of  man  (mere  minerals 
and  gases)  may  act  according  to  the  most  perfect  dic- 
tates of  reason  ? 


THOUGHT.  319 

2.  Tlie  Tlieist  has  nothing  to  do  with  all  these  diffi- 
culties, or  with  the  other  objections,  already  mentioned, 
which  meet  the  doctrines  of  materialism  at  every  step. 
The  Theist  considers  that  thin^j-s  which  are  evidentlv 
effects,  that  is  to  say,  passive  to  some  force  or  action, 
must  have  a  canse  ;  he  considers  that  there  is  a  vital 
force  in  nature  ;  that  the  vital  force  is  "  a  peculiar 
force,  because  it  exhibits  manifestations  which  are 
formed  in  no  other  known  force  ;  "  *  that  the  vivifying 
and  organizing  principle  are  identical ;  that  they  pro- 
duce effects  indicating  design  and  a  concordance  witli 
the  infinite  and  unital  design  of  the  universe,  and  are 
consequently  endowed  with  an  intellectual  principle ; 
that  matter  and  mind,  the  material  and  the  organizing 
power,  the  substance  and  its  vivify er,  have  existed  in 
all  eternity — one  active,  the  other  passive,  one  neutraliz- 
ing, the  other  moving.  The  past  eternity  of  God 
proves  the  past  eternity  of  his  manifestation,  however 
varied  may  have  been  the  modes  and  forms  of  those 
manifestations  ;  for  God  is  cause,  and  cause  implies  ef- 
fect, and  hence  at  no  time  has  God  been  other  than 
manifest  and  acting.  A  specific  display  of  his  power 
and  wisdom,  such  as  this  solar  system,  those  stars,  suns 
&c.,  may  have  had  a  beginning,  but  no  starting  point 
of  time  can  in  the  abstract  be  assigned  to  the  glorious 
and  phenomenal  deeds  of  the  Eternal  Aecheus.  In 
this  OEGA:N^IZmG  POWEK,  which  he  studies  and 

*  See  Liebig's  Animal  Chemistry — last  paragraph  of  Chapter 
I.  of  Part  III. 


320  HUMANICS. 

contemplates,  with  all  the  lights  of  science  and  reason, 
the  Theist  beholds  all  the  attributes  of  Divinity ;  and 
he  exhults  with  joy  when  he  iinds  that  he  knows  his 
GOD.  In  vain  does  the  obdurate,  the  infatuated  ma- 
terialist, pushed  to  the  last  resort,  endeavor  to  degrade 
the  idea  of  this  organizing  power,  by  calling  it  the 
"  Formative  Instinct  of  nature.''  If  it  is  instinct,  then 
the  intellect  of  man  is  lower  than  instinct.  ]^o  !  it  is 
not  instinct — it  is  infinite  Wisdom.  It  is  a  perversion 
of  words  to  call  it  instinct — it  is  the  power  and  will 
of  the  rnler  of  all,  lighting  suns,  driving  worlds  through 
space,  building  the  minute  fabrics  of  the  invisible 
animalculDB,  it  is  the  intellect  that  understandeth  (for  it 
fills)  immensity  and  eternity. 

XYI.  Kow  that  we  know  our  God,  let  us  endeavor 
to  perceive  his  purpose  :  the  object  of  his  design. 

Behold  the  lessons  of  geology  and  astronomy. 

The  earth  w^as  once  an  ignited  mass, — it  cooled — 
strata  upon  strata  of  inorganic  matter  was  deposited — 
water  and  air  were  then  formed,  and  vegetation  made 
its  appearance — then  gross  aquatic  and  amphibious 
animals  came  forth ;  but  as  layer  upon  layer  was  added 
to  the  shell  of  the  globe,  organization,  both  animal  and 
vegetable,  became  more  complex  and  perfect,  until  man, 
the  most  admirable  of  all,  was  created.  These  strata  of 
the  earth,  as  they  rise  from  the  depth  below,  each  new 
strata  adding  new  and  more  perfect  organization  to 
those  which  precede,  present  almost  the  same  progres- 


THOUGHT.  321 

sive  chain  of  beings,  as  the  natural  history  of  the  pres- 
ent surface  would  give.  The  zoophite,  the  shell,  the 
fish,  the  reptile,  the  bird,  the  mammalia,  the  man,  each 
made  their  appearance,  in  turn,  and  when  the  earth 
was  prepared  to  receive  them,  by  a  similar  improve- 
ment of  mineral  and  vegetable  nature.  The  sandy  and 
marshy  plains  rose  through  the  gradual  work  of  ages 
into  green  and  irrigated  hills  and  dales  ;  the  soft  reed, 
scanty  bush,  yielded  a  place  to  the  bread-tree  and  the 
oak ;  and  a  fit  habitation  was  prepared  for  a  superior 
order  of  beings.  And  has  this  progress  been  stopped 
forever  ?  Ko,  unless  the  great  motor  has  also  ceased 
to  act. 

Look  at  the  planets  that  course  around  the  sun. 
They  increase  in  perfection  as  they  rise  from  the  source 
or  primitive  elements  from  which  they  come.  The 
first  and  second  planets  have  atmospheres  suited  only 
to  aquatic  and  amphibious  animals;  they  present  the 
same  features  as  the  earth  must  have  presented  when 
naught  but  fish  and  reptiles  inhabited  its  surface.  The 
clouds  which  totally  cover  the  first  .planet,  and  which 
form  a  ragged  veil  over  the  second,  proclaim  the  one 
to  be  a  watery  globe,  while  the  land  of  the  other  hardly 
emerges  from  the  deep.  Our  earth  as  next  in  order, 
presents  clearer  skies,  higher  lands,  more  complicated 
phenomena,  seasons  more  temperate,  and  a  moon  whose 
influence  is  immense.  The  fourth  planet  shows  its  fair 
face  undimmed  by  watery  vapors,  and  wrapped  in  a 

lighter  and  purer  atmosphere.     The  fifth,  sixth,  and 
21 


322  HUMANICS. 

seventh  show  wants  and   conditions  still  more  active 
and  complete.     Tlioiigh  stupendous  in  size,  they  whirl 
around  their  axes  in  ten  hours'  time ;  and  though  their 
nights  are  so  short,  luminous  rings  and  moons  shine 
upon  them  with  a  constant  light,  and  produce  the  most 
admirable  effects.     Of  the  gradation  of  the  planets  we 
possess  with  certainty  the  first  links  ;  those  beyond  the 
earth  have  received  improvements  and  modifications, 
of  which  we  can  form  no  idea ;  but  the  certainty  we 
have,  that  there  is  a  regular  scale  of  improvement  in 
the  three  first  planets,  gives  us  the  glimpse  of  a  law  of 
nature  which  indictates   improvement  to  continue  to 
the  utmost  bounds  of  the  planetary  group.     If  the  earth 
came  from  the  sun,  it  must  have  been  once  a  molten 
and  blazing  ball ;  if  the  earth  were  put  in  the  place  of 
the  first  planet,  its  waters  would  rise  at  once  into  a  del- 
uge ;  if  put  in  the  place  of  the  second,  the  waters  would 
partially  subside,  and  humid  lands,  reed-covered  plains 
and  rocks,  and  amphibious  animals,  would  appear  be- 
neath cloudy  skies  and  superabundant  rains.     If  ad- 
vanced a  link  further,  the  habitation  of  man  would  be 
formed.     What  need  we  go  further  into  the  depths  of 
time  and  space  to  know  what  has  been,  and   divine 
what  will  be  ?    Does  not  geology  show  that  the  very 
changes  this  advance  of  the  earth,  flight  by  flight  from 
the  sun,  w^ould  produce,  have  actually  taken  place  ? 
First  a  comet,  the  seed  of  worlds,  catches  the  generating 
flame  of  the  sun,  and  forms  by  combustion  a  fiery  globe ; 
then,  consolidated  and  cooled,  it  is  covered  by  water ; 


THOUGHT.  323 

then  ascending,  it  becomes  tlie  tit  dominion  of  the  lower 
order  of  animals  ;  then,  behold  it  rises  again,  and  man 
takes  possesssion  of  the  garden  prepared  (through  ages) 
for  his  use. 

Is  not,  thus,  the  eternal  purpose  of  the  spirit  of  na- 
ture made  manifest  to  all  ?  Blessed  sciences  of  geology 
and  astronomy,  what  a  magnificent  lesson  do  you  teach  ! 
You  divulge  the  advances  of  the  works  of  the  great 
artificer  of  heaven  and  earth.  You  show  that  his  task 
and  his  pleasure  is  to  act  upon  matter  with  a  view  to 
improvement  and  perfection.  In  this  chain  of  progres- 
sive beings  which  dwell  on  earth,  and  advance  with 
the  planetary  scale,  we  find  new  evidence  of  the  exist- 
ence of  an  organizing  power  \vhich  gradually  over- 
comes the  inert  and  rebellious  jDroperties  of  matter, 
moulds  and  modifies  the  material  to  serve  the  hio:h 
purposes  of  intellectual  life  and  pleasure ;  and  at  last, 
emboldened  by  the  glorious  promise  all  nature  seems 
to  make, — our  soul,  that  vivifying  spark  of  the  divine 
essence,  hopes — nay  looks  with  confidence,  for  those 
successive  periods  and  transitions  of  happinese  and  bliss, 
which  mount  to  the  regions  of  transcendent  Wisdom 
and  Joy. 

"We  may  now  easily  solve  the  question  of 

LIBERTY   AND   NECESSITY. 

The  following  proposition  will  of  itself  suggest  a 
dii'ect  and  conclusive  solution  of  the  supposed  dilemma 


324  HUMANICS. 

of  liberty  and  necessity:  Humanity  is  subject  to  that 
necessity  God  has  ordained  as  the  Code  of  physical 
and  vital  animal  Nature  ;  but  Humanity  is  at  liberty, 
by  means  of  thought,  to  apply  those  laws  in  modes  of 
infinite  variety. 

Let  it  be  noted  that  tJiere  is  an  interval  of  time 
hetween  tetivptation  and  choice  /  and  that  this  interval 
is  inade  ly  the  action  of  thought^  in  considering  the  va- 
rious and  contradictory  motives,  ideas,  &c.,  which  oc- 
cur to  or  are  evoked  by  the  mind.  During  this  inter- 
val man,  it  must  be  admitted,  is  undoubtedly  free. 

The  use  of  the  term  "  ivQQ-will "  for  this  subject- 
matter,  misdirects  the  mind  ;  for  the  word  "  will  "  in 
itself  implies  a  determination  brought  about  by  affec- 
tion and  thought ;  implies  a  cause^  which  is  either 
feeling  or  judgment.  The  will  is  not  the  arena  of  free 
agency,  for  it  is  only  tlie  voice  proclaiming  the  victor 
in  the  contest  of  ideas ;  the  will  is  the  expression  of  a 
conclusion  delivered  by  sentiment  or  reason.  It  is  the 
solution  of  a  question,  apart  from  the  process  by  which 
it  was  revolved. 

To  put  the  question  fairly,  we  should  ask  :  Does 
man  possess  a  free  mind,  a  liberty  to  choose  ?  That  he 
has  this  faculty  is  apparent  from  the  fact  itself;  he  ex- 
ercises it.  IN'or  is  he  under  a  delusion,  when  he  recog- 
nizes this  fact ;  for  while  he  is  conscious  of  the  interval 
of  reflection  between  suggestion  and  determination,  he 
also  finds  that  one  of  the  attributes  of  reason  in  itself 
is  freedom. 


THOUGHT.  325 

Hence  it  is  erroneous  to  consider  judgment  as  simi- 
lar to  motive.  A  judgment  is  tlie  will  itself;  and,  as 
such,  is  an  end,  not  a  motive — the  deliverance  of  thought, 
not  its  generation  and  parturition.  It  is  the  finality 
(not  the  activity)  of  the  mind ;  the  fulcrum  or  dead 
point  at  which  thought  and  motives  terminate,  and  the 
action  of  body  begins. 

But  while  the  will  may  be  the  expression  in  one  in- 
stance of  pure  feeling,  or  in  another  instance  of  pure 
reason,  or  more  frequently  of  the  two  united,  yet  it  is 
only  as  a  rational  being  that  man  is  free.  If  he  does 
not  stop  to  weigh  and  measure  motives,  compute  expe- 
rience, study  the  present  state  of  things,  and  ideate  the 
future,  he  is  the  mere  instrument  of  impulse,  instinct, 
habit,  or  prejudice,  and  has  no  right  to  consider  him- 
self as  actually  enjoying  the  only  free  element  of  his 
nature. 

Heason  is  the  only  area  of  freedom.  The  rational 
mind  in  itself  does  not  obey ;  it  deliberates  and  com- 
mands. Reason  cannot  be  a  slave.  If  not  free,  it 
ceases  to  act  at  all ;  for  if  not  free,  it  would  not  be  rea- 
son, but  something  else,  a  kind  of  instinct.  Hence 
Kant  lucidly  says :  "  The  very  existence  of  reason  de- 
pends npon  its  freedom."  So  that,  if  we  are  ever  able 
to  demonstrate  free  agency,  it  will  be  out  of  the  attri- 
butes of  reason,  considered  as  a  human  power,  distin- 
guishable from  affection  ;  and  importing  impartiality, 
investigation,  choice,  &c. 

When  those  who  argue  against  free  agency  say  that 


326  HUMANICS. 

man  acts  from  motive,  and  when  tliey  show  that  he  is 
the  puppet  of  passions,  desires,  education,  and  the  like, 
they  are  in  one  view  right.  Man-  may  be  entirely  sub- 
ject to  such  influences,  and  in  that  condition  may  cease 
to  be  a  free  agent  ;  but  if  he  ever  falls  into  such  a 
state,  he  also  ceases  to  be  truly  man ;  since,  to  be  thus 
controlled  by  feeling  only,  he  must  have  abdicated  the 
essential  attribute  of  humanity,  and  retained  the  charac- 
teristics of  animality  alone. 

It  is  vain  to  say  that,  on  the  other  hand,  he  would 
become  the  instrument  of  reason — that  reason  would 
control  him  just  as  motives,  affections,  &c.,  sometimes 
do.  This  objection  could  not  stand  for  an  instant,  for 
reason,  in  itself,  is  freedom,  and  man  is  therefore  a  free 
agent  to  the  full  extent  of  his  exercise  of  the  reasoning- 
power  or  spiritus. 

Thus,  by  reason,  he  often  divorces  w^ith  characteris- 
tics imparted  by  birth,  habit,  or  prejudice,  and  puts  on 
a  new  personality  of  opinions,  conduct,  &c. 

You  may  say,  if  you  please,  that  man  is  the  slave 
of  his  judgments  ;  but  a  judgment  is  the  terminus  of 
deliberation,  reflection,  &c.  While  the  judgment  is 
forming,  and  until  the  mind's  internal  debate  is  ended, 
we  are  in  a  state  of  equilibration  or  freedom,  and  so 
we  continue  till  our  mind  is  "  made  up."  Even  then 
we  ma}^,  at  any  time,  reconsider  the  vote,  and  seek  a 
new  design.  Hence,  when  reason  sinks  the  scale  on 
one  side  or  the  other,  and  will  is  evolved,  the  act  that 
follows  is  the  act  of  a  slave  to  judgment,  indeed;  but 
the  judgment  itself  is  the  fiat  of  a  free  agent,  for  it  is 


THOUGHT.  327 

the  fiat  of  that  reason  which  is  man's  spiritual  self,  and 
which,  because  it  is  reason,  is  essentially  free. 

Taking  the  magnet  of  thought  as  his  guide,  he  may 
find  his  way  all  over  the  physical  world ;  study  it  by 
measuring  rule  and  graduated  compass,  and  instruct 
himself. 

Taking  the  scales  of  thought,  he  may  weigh  and 
calculate  the  equation  of  riglit  and  duty,  justice  and 
love,  and  control  himself. 

Sitting  in  judgment  upon  his  own  emotions,  motives, 
and  powers,  upon  the  things,  forces,  and  laws  surrounding 
him,  man  is  at  every  instant  of  existence  left  to  select 
among  innumerable  possibilities  of  action,  as  well  as 
among  a  multiplicity  of  realizable  hopes.  Far  from  sub- 
mitting to  the  first  direct  motive,  knowing  that  he  may 
study  the  value  and  bearings  of  every  motive,  conscious 
that  he  may  subject  it  to  the  jurisdiction  of  thought,  and 
that  the  secret  master  within  bears  the  light  of  Truth, 
he  checks  himself,  examines,  and  decides.  Often,  in 
fact,  by  investigation  and  thought,  he  bethinks  himself 
of  new  and  better  motives,  rejects  the  one  and  adopts 
the  other.  Indeed,  out  of  the  materials  of  intellectual 
consciousness,  he  designs  and  fashions  a  state  of  mind 
of  his  own  invention,  so  that  man  makes  his  own  mo- 
tives out  of  the  materials  over  which  his  intellectual 
nature  has  given  him  authority  or  jurisdiction.  Just 
in  proportion  as  he  observes  and  thinks,  instead  of 
blindly  obe3dng  the  crude  impetus  of  feeling,  in  that 
proportion  does  he  rise  above  the  brute,  and  widen  the 
area  of  his  own  liberty. 


V. 

ACTION. 

Having  thus  far  satisfied  ourselves  of  two  great 
truths  :  1°,  that  God  exists,  and  that  his  essential  attri- 
bute is  what  man  recos^nizes  as  the  eternal  and  infinite 
power  and  manifestation  of  Thought  ;  2°,  that  every 
man's  soul  is  an  image  or  iota  of  the  divine  Archeus  of 
Thought,  we  come  now  to  consider  the  application  of 
these  demonstrated  propositions,  in  the  sphere  of  Hu- 
man Action. 

I. 

NATURE   AND    ART. 

These  terms,  (nature  and  art,)  in  this  connection, 
serve  to  mislead  the  mind.  The  word  "  nature  "  would 
seem  to  imply  a  fatal  necessity  ;  moving,  uncontrolled 
by  any  volition  ;  operating  by  virtue  of  inherent  quali- 
ties, or  working  without  the  interference  of  mind.  The 
nature  of  a  thing  we  habitually  consider  to  be  its  inte- 
gral constitution,  which  of  itself  must  display  certain 


ACTION.  329 

manifestations.  This  view  ■svonld  relieve  iis  from  con- 
sidering the  universe  and  its  phenomena,  as  a  product 
of  Supreme  Thought ;  and  would,  by  accustoming  us 
to  the  idea  of  a  natural  law,  having  its  germ  in  matter 
itself,  lead  us  into  materialism. 

The  idea  of  nature,  which  begins  with  the  proper- 
ties of  matter,  is  atheistical ;  for  it  assumes  the  natural 
law  as  primarily  arising  by  and  in  the  material  sub- 
stance itself,  and  ignores  the  necessity  of  a  will  to  im- 
part and  of  a  thought  to  invent. 

Short-sighted  is  he  who  remains  satisfied  with  the 
sufficiency  of  a  concept  of  nature,  having  for  its  prime 
ratio  the  properties  of  matter  alone,  to  explain  the  evi- 
dences of  elective  design  in  the  universe. 

They  who  are  disabled  by  this  mental  short-sight- 
edness, from  perceiving  the  marks  of  free  thought  in 
the  cosmos,  may  most  frequently  lay  their  infirmity  to 
that  undefinable  word :  "  nature."  It  implies  every 
thing,  while  it  means  nothing.  It  includes  not  only 
the  general  view  of  all  phenomena,  but  also  implies  in 
every  thing  the  indefinite  inherence  of  a  something — its 
nature,  equivalent  to  n5  clear  idea  whatever. 

The  time  is  past  when  savans  could  impudently  ex- 
plain nature  by  nature,  and  confound  mind  with  mat- 
ter. 

It  has  now  become  plain,  that  to  explain  nature  by 
nature,  we  must  recognize  supreme  thought  as  an  inti- 
mate property  of  matter  itself,  and  thus  concede  the 
truth  of  Pantheism. 


330  HUMANICS. 

Hence,  to  avoid  vagueness  and  confusion,  we  should 
endeavor  to  find  expressions  in  which  the  definition  is 
not  confounded  with  the  term — in  which  cause  and  ef- 
fect are  not  posited  as  one. 

Let  "  nature,"  if  j^ou  please,  mean  the  aspect  of  the 
universe  ;  but  let  the  mechanism  and  motion  w^hich  the 
universe  exliibits,  be  the  operation  of  Divine  Art. 

"Who  confounds  man  with  his  works — who  con- 
founds the  instrument  with  the  mind  which  contrives 
it?  Yet  some  would  have  it  that  nature  is  both  uni- 
versal matter  and  universal  mind  ;  or,  still  worse,  that 
nature  (the  aspect)  shows  the  indicea  of  thought,  with- 
out there  being  an  existence  (ens  realissimum)  of  thought, 
either  as  property  or  actor. 

As  meaning  force  or  law,  property  or  action,  the 
term  nature  should  be  discarded,  but  we  should  confine 
it  to  the  'bodily  aspect  of  the  universe,  while  the  force 
which  moves  it  should  be  the  *'  Divine  Will,"  and  the 
laws  which  control  it,  the  '^  Divine  Art."  Let  the  as- 
spect  alone  be  "  nature." 

This  distinction  is  also  appropriate  to  Human  ISTa- 
ture,  in  which  there  is  a  visible  and  tangible  tody — a 
will  to  resolve,  and  reflection  to  design. 

I  am  instinctively  conscious  that  within  me  dwells 
an  inherent  force. 

Independently  of  all  observation  of  external  things, 
I  feel  the  potency  of  an  innate  energy  for  volition  and 
action. 


ACTION.  331 

This  energy  is  my  own. 

In  me  and  to  me  it  declares  the  fact  of  causation  ; 
for  force  cannot  be  felt  as  a  positive  iact,  without  im- 
parting the  immediate  and  simultaneous  certitude  of 
causality. 

This  is  tlie  substantive  beginning  of  philosophy; 
for,  in  the  certitude  of  force  and  causation,  the  lever  of 
thought  obtains  a  fixed  point  on  which  its  fulcrum  may 
positively  rest. 

The  new-born  vnivcivi  feels  the  possession  of  a  causa- 
tive force.  It  stretches  forth  its  hand  to  grasp  ;  and, 
though  it  has  not  yet  learned  how  to  use 'its  limbs  and 
do,  it  feels  the  power  to  catch  and  to  hold. 

On  this  immutable  centre  the  mythologist  and  idol- 
ater places  the  personifications  he  is  wont  to  worship 
and  propitiate  as  Gods. 

On  this  i3ositive  basis  the  naturalist  relies  as  the 
substratum  of  the  laws  of  Matter. 

On  this  indubitable  reality  the  materialist  builds 
his  theories  of  necessary  order. 

And  from  this  pivotal  truth  the  theist  lifts  his  men- 
tal vision,  to  behold  the  Grand  Archeus  of  the  Uni- 
verse. 

The  origin  of  our  idea  of  cause  is  twofold : 
l''.  The  direct  feeling  or  consensibility  we  have  of 
internal  instincts  and  emotions,  as  having  power  to  de- 
termine the  will,  and,  through  the  impulse  of  will,  to 
evolve  action ; 


332  HUMANICS. 

2".  The  self-knowledge  of  thought ;  for  thought 
knows  its  own  operations  ;  knows  them  to  be  energetic 
processes  and  a  succession  of  acts,  of  which  the  past 
have  produced  the  present,  and  of  which  the  present 
serve  to  determine  the  future. 

In  the  lirst  category,  man  feels  himself  as  passive ,' 
as  the  passive  instrument  of  forces  within  himself. 

In  the  second  categor}^,  man  feels  himself  as  active  / 
as  the  master  to  do  or  not  to  do,  according  to  his  idea 
of  what  ought  to  he  /  and  as  constantly  achieving  in- 
dependence of  that  which  is,  through  the  creative  and 
progressive  changes  wrought  by  his  own  inventive 
genius. 

In  both  these  categories  the  idea  of  energy,  power, 
force,  cause,  is  primary,  and  starts  from  the  centre  of 
self;  and  the  idea  of  causative  force  thus  delivered 
by  self  to  self,  must  be  taken  as  one  of  those  initial 
facts  at  which  reasoning  begins,  and  behind  which 
reasoning  cannot  go  without  suicide,  simply  because 
there  is  no  higher,  deeper,  or  wider  fact  from  which  it 
might  be  deduced,  other  than  the  idea  of  the  Supreme 
One,  who  reigneth  in  all  space  and  time. 

Looking  out  of  self  we  cannot  fail  to  recognize  that 
the  causative  force  (as  felt  in  us  and  evolved  by  our- 
selves) pervades  all  nature,  and  presents  itself  a  direct 
external  fact. 

If  we  were  (as  the  brutes  are)  only  capable  of  the 
passive  instinct  or  consensibility  of  a  causative  force, 


ACTION.  333 

the  aspect  of  nature  would  never  awaken  in  us  aught 
but  feelings  of  immediate  necessity ;  the  full  idea  of 
causality  (as  understood  in  philosophy)  could  never 
have  arisen. 

But  while  we  possess  this  consciousness  of  ixissive- 
ness  to  force,  and  while  our  anhnal  impressions  and 
instincts  could  not  go  beyond  the  mere  feeling,  and 
would  directly  obey  its  impulses,  we  also  carry  within 
ourselves  the  archeus  or  principle  of  number  and  meas- 
ure. This  Archeus  is  not  only  self-active,  not  only  im- 
poses itself  as  a  supreme  power,  but  imparts  notions  of 
distinct  units  of  force,  of  values,  and  purviews  of  force, 
ratios,  and  adequacies  of  force,  with  which  it  performs 
operations  of  mathematical  computation. 

Thus,  while  instinct  posits  the  simple  idea  of  an  un- 
intelligent force,  thought  posits,  in  and  by  its  own  prop- 
erties, the  idea  of  an  intelligent  force,  and  the  two  de- 
rive their  title  to  be  considered  as  forces,  from  the  fact 
that  they  both  answer  to  the  definitions  of  force,  which 
is  dynamical  energy,  producing  motion,  and  known  to 
exist  by  its.  accomplishing  changes.  Both  move  and 
do,  both  are  exerted  externally  and  internally,  and  both 
accomplish  acts  and  changes.  The  one  is  the  property 
and  movement  of  the  elements  of  matter,  producing 
organic  and  inorganic  efi'ects  ;  and  the  other  is  the 
property  and  movement  of  thought  upon  itself,  com- 
puting the  data  of  consciousness  and  influencing  the 
will. 

"Without  this  double   element  springing  from  the 


334  HUMANICS. 

germ-cell  of  his  animal  nature,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  focal-light  of  thought  on  the  other,  the  senses  of 
man,  like  a  mirror,  might  have  reflected  for  ages  the 
changes  of  nature ;  but  he  would  never  have  ideated 
the  principle  of  causalit}',  the  laws  of  connection  be- 
tween successive  phenomena,  or  the  mutual  and  meas- 
ured dependency  of  all  things  in  time  and  space. 

Hence,  by  virtue  of  our  self-nature,  we  conceive 
the  universe  as  subject,  in  its  parts  and  totality,  to 
Causative  Force. 

Hence,  too,  we  ideate  this  force,  1°,  as  a  Teality^ 
(real  existence  ;)  2^,  as  enforcing  and  fulfilling  laios. 

Hence,  moreover,  (recurring  to  our  previous  study 
of  the  existence  and  attributes  of  God,)  it  is  clear  that 
we  must  regard  the  works  of  Deity  and  the  works  of 
man  from  a  same  point  of  view,  to  wit :  as  the  products 
of  mind : 

1^,  of  the  mind  of  God,  the  universal  unit  of  thought ; 

2'',  of  the  mind  of  man,  the  atomic  particle  of 
thought. 

Hence,  further,  if  we  regard  the  works  of  nature  as 
well  as  those  of  man,  as  due  to  a  thinking  cause,  iden- 
tical in  esse,  but  differing  from  man  to  God  as  a  spark 
would  differ  from  a  boundless  light,  we  at  once  have 
an  index  to  a  true  theory  of  the  Arts ;  for  then  Human 
Art  would  look  to  Divine  Art  for  methods  and  models. 

When  we  consider  Divine  Art,  we  recognize  certain 


ACTION.  335 

liicts,  which  language  adduces  by  the  adjectives — True, 
Good,  Beautiful. 

In  the  True^  we  find  the  immutability  of  laws — the 
necessity  of  adequate  causes — the  consistency  of  all  in 
all — the  economy  and  identity  of  means — the  harmony 
of  things  with  ideas — we  find  that  truth  is  the  adapta- 
tion of  Eeality  to  Design. 

In  the  Goodv^Q  find  a  plan  and  a  use,  the  plan  being 
recognized  as  such  only  so  far  as  it  has  a  purpose,  con- 
sistent with  the  enjoyment  and  perpetuation  of  uni- 
versal harmony — we  find  that  the  good  is  the  adapta- 
tion of  Use  to  Design. 

In  the  Beautiful  we  find  multiplicity  woven  into 
unity,  and  hence  wherever  we  meet  with  variety  se- 
riated, proportioned,  combined  under  one  idea,  it  is 
beauty,  of  which  there  are  many  grades  more  and 
more  perfect  in  the  ratio  of  the  number  of  minor  phe- 
nomena as  necessarily  enter  into  the  grand  unit,  with- 
out efi'acing  it.  Beauty  is  the  adaptation  of  Variety  to 
Design. 

Yariety  of  substance  and  causes,  converging  to 
unity,  adduces  the  True. 

Yariety  of  processes  and  effects,  operating  in  unity, 
adduces  the  Good. 

Yariety  of  aspects  and  impressions  radiating  from 
unity,  adduces  the  Beautiful. 

But  these  three  svnthetical  unities,  as  we  have  here- 
tofore  shown,  are  necessarily  merged  in  a  still  higher 


336  HUMANICS. 

unity,  whicli  is  Design — tlie  Divine  Mind — the  Divine 
Will— the  Divine  Art. 

And  hence,  Unman  Art  must  be  this  same  Design, 
in  a  limited  sphere,  seeking  to  reduce  varieties  of 
Cause,  Movement,  and  Impression  to  units  ^  such  as 
Systems  of  Science,  Schemes  of  Invention,  and  Group- 
ings of  Taste. 

But  here  I  check  myself,  deeming  it  unnecessary  to 
bring  forward  proofs  to  show  that  the  works  of  Human 
Art  are  determined  by  the  same  economical  and  sesthet- 
ical  principles  as  appear  in  the  "Works  of  Divine  Art. 
The  illustrations  of  this  fact  present  themselves  on 
every  side,  and  are  so  palpable  and  numerous  that  no 
intelligent  reader  needs  a  cicerone  to  point  them  out. 
In  a  future  work  I  may,  however,  in  an  artistic  mood, 
endeavor  to  institute  the  analogy  of  Human  and  Divine 
Art ;  but  in  a  work  like  the  present  one,  a  mere  men- 
tion of  that  analogy  should  suffice. 

11. 

SELF-SCIENCE   AND   ECONOMY. 

Some  conceive  the  precept,  "  Know  thyself,"  as 
meaning  that  they  slioidd,  by  self-examination,  discover 
their  own  vices  and  virtues,  defects  of  knowledge  and 
disposition,  qualities  of  feeling  and  of  mind,  with  a 
view  to  correction  and  improvement. 

True,  this  is  self-knowledge,  but  it  is  of  an  inferior 


ACTION.  337 

and  imperfect  kind.  True,  this  kind  of  self-knowledge 
has  its  uses  and  benefits,  but  only  in  a  limited  and  em- 
pirical way. 

Real  or  integral  self-knowledge  is  found  only  in  the 
study  of  human  nature — of  the  instincts,  faculties, 
emotions,  and  reason  of  man ;  of  his  physical,  social, 
and  spiritual  destiny.  When  we  clearly  understand 
these  things,  we  may  then  posit  terms  of  comparison, 
first  principles,  and  standards  of  perfection,  by  which 
individuals  and  communities,  ourselves  and  others,  may 
be  tested  and  judged. 

Kor  is  this  self-science  exclusively  aj)plicable  to 
moral  and  intellectual  relations,  but  it  also  applies  to 
^physical  conditions  and  relations.  It  seeks  to  discover 
man's  wants  and  tastes  ;  what  they  are  ;  why  they  ex- 
ist ;  and  having  determined  these  points,  the  question 
immediately  arises :  how  ought  these  wants  and  tastes 
to  be  gratified  and  managed?  Hence  the  laws  of 
health,  wealth,  pleasure,  labor,  production,  exchange, 
commerce,  distribution,  consumption,  demand,  &c. 

Thus  arise  the  Arts  of  personal,  domestic,  social, 
and  political  Economy. 

The  limits  assigned  to  this  volume  forbid  the  inser- 
tion of  extensive  observations,  to  show  how  a  knowl- 
edge of  Humanics  would  have  enabled  the  economists 
Smith,  Say.  Ricardo,  Malthus,  Mill,  Carey,  &c.,  to 
have  solved  the  intricate  problems  they  studied. 

It  is,  however,  evident  that  as  the  economical  arts 

seek  to  provide  for  man,  they  must  provide  for  him  ac- 
22 


338  HUMANICS. 

cording  to  his  nature,  his  rational  and  passional  consti- 
tution. His  character  and  destiny  should  be  a  law 
unto  their  art.  It  should  posit  man  as  he  is^  as  he 
ought  to  be,  and  as  he  is  becoming  singly  and  socially. 
Such  is  the  condition  to  which  their  solutions  should 
conform ;  for  if  they  do  not,  the  body  politic  will  reject 
their  doctrines,  just  as  the  stomach  rejects  repugnant 
aliments  and  drinks. 

III. 

SOCIETY   AND   GOVERNMENT. 

Here  again  is  a  subject  too  extended  for  this  vol- 
ume ;  but  here  again  let  it  be  noted,  that  those  who 
treat  of  the  art  of  government,  should  look  carefully 
to  the  Science  of  Society,  as  hased  upon  Humanics. 

Too  often  is  government  conceived  as  the  art  of 
coercing  individuals  and  minorities ;  or  as  the  means 
of  enabling  majorities  to  realize  their  caprices  and  arbi- 
trary decisions. 

It  should,  on  the  contrary,  be  looked  upon  as  the 
refuge  of  individual  liberty,  and  as  the  guaranty  of 
minority  rights ;  as  a  check  upon  the  tyranny  of  ma- 
jorities and  of  princes. 

Hence  the  importance  of  framing  bills  of  rights  and 
liberties,  in  terms  of  great  scientific  precision,  and  of 
providing  barriers  against  any  violation  of  first  princi- 
ples. 


ACTION. 

ly. 

THE  SOUL  AND  ETHICS. 

It  is  the  Science  of  the  Soul  which  discloses  the 
true  principles  of  moral  action. 

It  appears  clearly  to  my  mind,  that  none  of  the  ani- 
mal feelings  are  either  moral  or  immoral,  and  that  all 
our  ethical  ideas  flow  from  our  thinhing  spirit,  w^hich 
I  hold  to  be  identical  with  the  soul. 

Which  one  of  our  instincts,  propensities,  or  senti- 
ments, are  in  themselves  virtues  ?  If  the  reader  men- 
tions one,  let  him  inquire  if  it  does  not  involve,  in  some 
degree,  the  elements  of  thought,  or  some  act  of  reason. 

Are  not  all  our  feelings  and  emotions  liable  to  run 
into  excesses,  vice,  and  crime  ?  If  there  is  one  I  have 
not  been  able  to  discover  it ;  and  if  the  reader  can 
name  one,  let  him  see  if  it  is  not  merely  one  of  the 
terms  in  a  scale,  which,  as  reason  increases  or  dimin- 
ishes in  force,  rises  or  falls,  from  some  point  of  indif- 
ference, to  merit  on  the  one  side,  or  guilt  on  the  other. 

Are  not  our  feelings  and  sentiments  multiple,  and 
of  various  tendencies  ?  Self-love  is  necessary ;  so  is 
social  love ;  and  between  absolute  misanthropy  and 
maniacal  philanthropy,  there  are  passional  stages  and 
conditions,  which  may  be  the  prompters  of  good  or 
evil  deeds  ;  one  or  the  other,  according  to  folly  or  wis- 
dom, use  or  abuse ;  for  there  is  no  inherent  force  in 
these  numerous  and  diverse  impulses,  to  make  them, 


340  HUMANICS. 

singly  or  collectively,  assume  the  form  of  virtue  rather 
than  that  of  vice,  without  the  tuition  of  reason. 

In  every  circumstance,  reason  or  principles,  discov- 
ered by  reason,  must  give  us  the  right  position  and  di- 
rection among  our  conflicting  motives.  Keason  is  evi- 
dently the  only  regulator  and  arbiter,  and  therefore 
reason  is  the  true  originator  of  Virtue.  "Without  rea- 
son there  can  be  no  rule  of  conduct,  no  limit  to  any 
excess  or  furor  of  desire  or  affection,  and  therefore  Vir- 
tue is  rationalized  passion. 

GOD   AND   KELIGION. 

Before  man  began  to  study  himself,  when  he  was 
yet  a  savage  or  an  infant,  and  exclusively  attentive  to 
the  outward  w^orld,  his  mind  was  unconsciously  di- 
rected, in  its  operations,  by  the  causative  force  he  felt 
as  motive  and  volition. 

This  feeling  was  the  sum  of  his  own  existence  ;  so 
that  when  affected  by  natural  things — fire,  thunder, 
water,  w^inds,  earth,  plants,  sun,  moon,  stars,  planets, 
&c. — he  at  once  imagined  them  to  be  voluntary  causes 
or  powers. 

He  had  not  thought  of  any  distinction  between  or- 
ganic and  rational  action,  and  hence  could  not  see 
wherein  any  active  operation  of  things  was  distinguish- 
able from  the  intentional  acts  of  men. 

Thus,  he  at  once  presumed  all  things  in  nature  to 
be  individual  existences,  having  like  himself  the  will 
to  do  what  they  did ;  and  finding  that  they  were  stronger 


ACTION.  341 

than  he  was,  he  yielded  to  their  superior  force.  By 
prayers  and  offerings,  he  solicited  their  forbearance  and 
favor. 

Had  man,  from  the  beginning,  perceived  that  there 
was  a  hierarchy  of  natural  forces — original,  mediate, 
and  immediate  causes — a  difference  between  material 
and  voluntary  movement — that  above  the  particular 
phenomena  were  others  more  and  more  abstract,  and 
of  greater  and  greater  scope,  and  that  we  may  ascend 
to  a  supreme  head  of  universal  unity — he  could  not 
have  made  divinities  of  the  material  bodies  which  af- 
fected his  senses. 

Had  he  bethought  himself 

—  of  many  forces, 

—  of  each  one  of  these  many  beings  absolutely  dis- 
tinct and  special, 

—  of  each  force  as  possessing  properties  or  laws  of 
its  own, 

—  of  the  imponderability  of  these  forces, 

—  of  their  permeating  one  another, 

—  of  their  pervading  all  material  things, 

—  of  one  controlling  the  other,  term  beyond  term, 
till  the  final  unit  of  eternal  and  infinite  thought  became 
evident ; 

—  had  man,  I  say,  at  the  outset  bethought  himself 
of  these  possibilities,  he  could  not  have  fallen  into  idol- 
atry, or  even  into  mythophilism. 

But  in  his   ignorance  (though  obedient  to  a  true 


342  HUMANICS. 

principle)  lie  could  not  help  viewing  each  concrete 
agent  of  force  as  a  jpersonality^  endowed  with  an  indi- 
yidiial  volition. 

The  more  we  study  all  the  known  religions,  w^iether 
we  examine  them  through  the  medium  of  history,  or 
observe  them  by  means  of  travel,  the  more  certain  will 
we  be  that  the  necessary  conception  of  causative  force, 
or  of  adequate  ]3ower,  as  producing  change,  is  the 
foundation  of  all  natural  theology,  and  of  faith  in  reve- 
lation. 

Even  Atheism  sets  up  the  necessity  of  causative 
force  as  the  pedestal  of  its  argument ;  and  the  only 
difference  between  materialism  and  theism,  atheism 
and  Christianity,  is  that  the  one  denies  and  the  other 
asserts,  an  intelligent  cause.  Both  agree  in  the  neces- 
sity of  causative  force.  The  materialist  thinks  the  in- 
herent properties  of  matter  are  sufficient  to  explain  all 
things,  even  adaptation,  design,  and  thought ;  but  the 
theist  is  no  more  satisfied  to  stop  at  this  physical  theory, 
than  Socrates  was  to  content  himself  witli  the  embodied 
gods  of  Greece  ;  and  so  the  theist  goes  on,  obedient  to 
the  laws  of  mind,  to  seek  for,  till  he  finds,  a  living,  in- 
telligent, and  universal  cause. 

Comte  in  his  positive  philosophy  strives  to  discredit 
the  use  of  the  idea  of  cause,  and  would  fain  abolish 
even  the  words  "  cause  "  and  "  force."  He  denounces 
them  as  unphilosophical.     He  was  conscious  that  his 


ACTION.  343 

materialism,  could  not  withstand  the  admitted  validity 
of  their  import.  But  he  could  not  rid  his  own  mind  of 
the  ideas  expressed  by  those  words.  So  he  found  it  con- 
stantly and  absolutely  necessary  to  bring  their  meaning 
into  his  service.  He  abolished  the  name  but  smelt  the 
rose.  Hence,  to  gratify  his  whim  of  dislike,  and  yet 
give  sense  to  his  language,  he  hypocritically  uses  the 
synonyms  and  equivalents  of  the  discarded  words,  and 
instead  of  "  force,"  says  "  property,"  and  the  like  ;  in- 
stead of  "  cause,"  says  "  influence,"  and  the  like.  Yet 
such  is  the  irresistible  influence  of  the  pro;perties  of  the 
mind,  that  in  several  instances  he  unwittingly  employs 
the  very  terms  he  condemns,  so  that,  here  and  there, 
in  his  ponderous  book,  we  find  "  cause  "  and  "  force," 
in  their  legitimate  place,  under  his  pen.  Indeed,  no 
man  can  frame  and  write  a  connected  theory  of  natural, 
mental,  and  social  philosophy,  without  these  words,  or 
others,  expressing  identical  ideas. 

The  idea  of  causative  force  cannot  be  discarded, 
nor  its  positiveness  denied ;  and  the  error  of  supersti- 
tion was  not  in  deducing  religion  from  the  fact  of 
causation,  but  it  was  in  the  personification  of  apparent 
causes. 

Causative  Force,  embodied  or  personified,  was  the 
first  deity  naturally  conceived  by  the  mind  of  man ;  but 
the  idea  of  the  one  supreme  power  was  not  the  first  to 
arise,  and  hence  the  beginning  of  natural  theology  was 
polytheism. 


344  HUMANICS. 

As  the  idea  of  causative  force  presents  itself  directly 
to  thought  in  four  ways,  so  the  gods  of  polytheism  may 
be  distinguished  into  four  kinds : 

1°.  Gods  who  were  the  powerful  Asjoects  of  Visible 
a/nd  tangible  Matter^  directly  adored  as  they  appeared 
individually,  or  as  they  were  personified  in  imagina- 
tion. Thus  w^e  have  the  Heavens  or  Jupiter,  the  Air 
or  Juno,  the  Earth  or  Pan,  the  Fire  or  Yulcan,  the 
"Waters  or  Neptune,  the  Sun  or  Osiris,  Mithra,  Apollo, 
&c.,  tlie  Moon  or  Isis,  Diana,  &c.,  the  Morning  or 
Aurora. 

2*^.  Gods  who  were  the  representation  or  personifi- 
cation of  the  abstract  and  intangible  forces  of  Matter, 
Thus  we  have  Time  or  Saturn,  Horus,  &c.,  Heat  or 
Yesta,  Vegetation  or  Ceres,  Health  or  Hebe,  Beauty 
or  Yenus,  Strength  or  Hercules,  Death  or  Pluto,  Sera- 
pis,  &c. 

3°.  Gods  who  were  the  personification  of  the  Emo- 
tional Forces  felt  in  the  human  organism.  Thus  we 
have  Courage  or  Mai's,  Love  or  Cupid,  Pevenge  or  ]^e- 
mesis,  Joy  or  Euphrosine,  Pemorse  or  the  Fairies,  Mirth 
or  Momus ;  &c.,  &c. 

4°.  Gods  who  w^ere  the  personification  of  the  Causa- 
tive Force  of  Thought.  Thus  we  have  Wisdom  or 
Minerva,  Commerce  or  Mercury,  Justice  or  Themis, 
Medicine  or  Esculapius,  Science  or  the  Muses,  Thought 
or  Prometheus,  the  Soul  or  Psyche,  &c. 

It  is  not  my  design  to  offer  any  thorough  analysis  of 
Heathen  Mythology,  but  merely  to  call  attention  to 


ACTION.  345 

what  I  consider  as  the  true  origin  of  the  Olympian 
deities.  An  examination  of  the  Egyptian,  Persian, 
Indian,  and  Scandinavian  theogonies,  would  furnish 
abundant  illustrations  of  the  theory  just  stated.  The 
abstract  forces  and  ideas  adored  as  deities  might  not 
appear  so  well  conceived  and  personified  as  in  the 
Grecian  system  ;  but  they  are  just  as  palpable,  though 
crude. 

ITor  need  we  be  embarrassed  by  the  figures  of  ani- 
mals, or  the  chimerical  shapes  attributed  to  many 
deities.  It  is  plain  that  when  ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion assume  the  Aspects  and  Forces  of  Mature,  the 
Emotional  and  Thinking  energies  of  Humanity,  as 
personal  existences  or  individuals,  exercising  their 
power  on  nature  and  in  man,  it  was  imagination, 
coincidence,  accident,  analogy,  &c.,  which  gave  forms 
to  these  gods.  Thus  the  breeding,  invasion,  and  services 
of  certain  beasts,  the  characteristic  qualities  or  appear- 
ance of  certain  animals,  were  associated  by  analogy 
with  the  myths,  and  served  to  represent  them.  In  the 
same  way  even  at  the  present  day  the  devil  is  personi- 
fied as  a  man  with  horns,  a  tail,  cloven  feet,  fiery  eye- 
balls, smoking  nostrils,  &c. 

As  to  the  histories  or  legends  of  the  gods,  they  are 
evidently  allegories  arising  very  naturally  out  of  the 
idea  of  the  gods  themselves,  as  connected  with  the 
cosmogonical  notions  of  their  votaries,  the  changes  of 
seasons,  periodical  or  extraordinary  catastrophes,  and 
the  movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies  with  which  the 


346  HUMANICS. 

myths  became  inevitably  associated,  from  the  very 
natm*e  of  the  case,  as  the  gods  were  in  fact  the  powers 
of  nature,  acting  in  nature  as  the  object  of  their  do- 
minion. 

Now,  if  we  follow  superstition  through  its  successive 
stages,  we  perceive  that  while  it  constantly  and  indis- 
criminately transforms  causative  agents  and  forces  into 
personal  gods,  at  the  same  time  thought  gradually  and 
progressively  introduces  more  rational  myths,  a  more 
elevated  theogony. 

Always  obedient  to  the  innate  consciousness  of 
causative  force  as  the  starting  point,  and  always  seek- 
ing a  more  perfect  conception  of  this  force,  man  ad- 
vances from  the  idolatry  of  concrete  personifications  to 
the  mythology  of  impersonal  deities,  in  the  following 
series :  the  Ormuzed  and  Ahriman  of  Zoroaster,  the 
Great  Totality  of  the  Pantheists,  the  Soul  of  the  World 
of  the  Grecian  philosophers,  the  Supreme  Generator  of 
the  Kabbalists,  the  Grand  Ai-chitect  of  the  Gnostics. 

But  it  was  only  out  of  the  Jewish  faith,  and  finally 
from  Jesus,  that  man  obtained  a  really  pure  conception 
of  the  Deity.  No  identity  with  matter,  no  figure,  no 
plurality,  but  the  causative  force  of  Thought  evolving 
the  Spirit  of  Wisdom,  Truth,  and  Love,  eternal  and 
infinite. 

And  thus  all  doubt  and  inconsistency  disappears ; 
for  we  are  relieved  from  considering  God  as  an  object 


ACTION.  347 

posited  in  time  and  place,  and  we  are  permitted  to  re- 
gard him,  not  as  distinct  from,  but  as  identical  with, 
that  universal  causative  force  which  is  manifested  as 
omnipotent  mind  j  or  self-subsistent  reason  and  su- 
preme design,  of  which  our  intellect  is  but  a  faint  re- 
flection. 

I  have  already,  through  reason  alone,  demonstrated 
the  positive  existence  of  Deity  as  proclaimed  in  the 
Jesuic  Dogma ;  and  now  I  close  this  book  by  a  question 
to  the  churches. 

Do  you  fully  perform  your  duty  to  God  and  his 
children  ?  Is  the "  world  improving  morally  and  ra- 
tionally under  your  administration  ?  Is  not  vice  and 
sin  gaining  ground  against  you  ? 

Few  of  you  could  truthfully  give  me  an  affirmative 
answer. 

Then  something  remains  to  be  done  which  you  do 
not  do,  or  cannot  do  under  your  present  discipline. 

Allow  me  to  suggest  a  programme. 

Introduce  your  congregations  to  the  study  of  the 
Apostolic  Record  according  to  the  following  princi- 
ples : 

That  whereas  the  doctrines  of  Jesus  are  addressed 
to  man's  convictions,  and  intended  for  man's  ob- 
servance, they  are  not  repugnant  to  human  reason, 
and  do  not  transcend  the  limits  of  human  understand- 


ing- 


That  the  doctrines  of  Jesus  are  founded  upon  grand 


348  HUMANICS. 

logical  premises,  which  can  be  shown  to  be  valid  and 
true,  through  processes  of  natural  and  scientific  reason- 
ing. 

That  reason  and  faith  do  not  necessarily  controvert 
each  other,  and  whenever  they  apparently  do  so,  there 
is  error,  either  in  our  faith  or  in  our  judgment ;  and 
the  error  can  only  be  removed  by  discovering  the  point 
at  lohich  our  pure,  just,  and  enlightened  reason  on  the 
one  side  and  our  religious  faith  on  the  other,  may 
be  logically  reconciled,  and  exist  in  harmony  and 
candor. 

That  reason  must  and  will  finally  triumph  over  any 
sectarian  creed  which  is  not  conformable  to  the  laws  of 
mind,  and  to  the  imperative  fact  that  every  truth  is 
consistent  with  all  truth. 

That  the  Apostolic  Record  must  be  read  according 
to  the  main  rational  idea  of  the  whole  book,  and  so 
that  the  interpretation  of  the  texts  sectarians  contend 
about,  should  subserve  the  logical  consequences  of  this 
main  rational  idea  ;  and  thus  obey  the  warning  :  "  the 
letter  killeth  but  the  spirit  giveth  life." 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  point  out  the  necessity  of 
studying  the  Apostolic  Eecord  according  to  these  prin- 
ciples. A  method  should  be  devised ;  and  that  method 
should  be  calculated  to  take  efi'ect  among  the  masses, 
and  afford  its  benefits  to  the  whole  people.  It  should 
admit  the  principle  that  tlie  popular  mind  is  anxious 
for  such  grounds  of  belief  as  will  stand  the  scrutiny  of 


ACTION.  349 

reason,  and  that  the  church  does  not  fear  the  light  of 
science,  but  on  the  contrary  submits  to  the  precept : 
'^jprove  all  things  ;  hold  fast  that  which  is  good." 
Mj  plan  would  be  : 

1.  Have  preachers,  of  course  ;  but  let  them  be  men 
of  large  minds,  lovers  of  truth,  fearing  not  argument, 
discussion,  evidence ;  courteous  to  hear  and  answer ; 
understanding  philosophy ;  and  able  to  expound  (in 
j)opular  terms  and  figures)  the  Jesuic  System  in  its 
analogy  and  relation  to  the  Science  of  Man  and  the 
process  of  thought :  men  able  to  start  from  germ-points, 
focal-lights,  first  principles,  initial  facts,  primary  ideas, 
standard  criterions ;  men  who  know  how  to  demon- 
strate supreme  laws,  innate  properties,  necessary  limits, 
adequate  force,  essential  design,  and  generative  lib- 
erty. 

2.  But  (besides  the  preacher,  besides  prayer  meetings 
and  the  like)  the  congregation  must  assemble  in  class 
conferences  for  mutual  instruction  in  all  the  subjects 
above  mentioned ;  and  this  mutual  instruction  should 
consist  in  the  interchange  of  ideas  by  means  of  ad- 
dresses, lectures,  poems,  apologues,  historical  selections, 
scientific  illustrations,  logical  demonstrations,  originat- 
ing from  the  members  of  the  class,  and  discussed  among 
themselves,  apart  from  all  personal  or  partisan  interest, 
in  a  spirit  of  anti-dogmatic  tolerance  ;  and  bringing  up 
questions  concerning  the  laws  of  artistic,  economic, 
political,  moral,  and  religious  action. 

.3.  And  congenial  to  this,  there  should  be  a  religious 


350  HUMANICS. 

press  and  propaganda,  independent  of  sectarian  am- 
bition, harmonizing  with  human  progress  and  sympa- 
thizing with  the  intellect  and  science  of  the  age.  Tlie 
several  churches  should,  if  possible,  have  their  respec- 
tive periodicals  to  report  or  publish  the  sermons  of  the 
minister,  the  intellectual  transactions  of  the  class  con- 
ference, and  the  select  productions  of  the  members,  so 
that  all  of  them  might  have  copies  to  preserve  and 
distribute. 

How  this  would  operate  to  awaken  thought,  ad- 
vance true  views  of  religion,  and  inspire  zeal  for  the 
dissemination  of  enlightened  opinions,  I  need  not  ex- 
plain, for  it  is  self-evident. 

I  say  nothing  of  the  charities  of  brotherhood,  of 
active  benevolence,  for  they  necessarily  appertain  to  a 
church  organization.  I  suggest  only  the  points  essen- 
tial to  my  idea  of  reform. 

That  a  higher  standard  of  religious  education  is 
wanting  in  the  United  States  and  in  England,  to  keep 
pace  with  the  state  of  knowledge  and  civilization,  and 
to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  a  liberal  and  truthful  public 
mind,  is  plainly  to  be  seen,  even  in  the  success  of  em- 
pirical speculators,  on  the  general  desire  to  greet  the 
new  lights  dawning  on  the  religious  world  ;  and  I  pre- 
dict that  if  the  church  does  not  move  in  that  direction, 
she  will  be  left  behind,  among  those  who  have  not  yet 
advanced  beyond  the  prejudices,  superstition,  and 
fanaticism  of  the  sixteenth  century. 


ACTION.  351 

The  highest  act  of  religion  is  the  study  of  the  laws, 
process,  and  conduct  of  thought — the  culture  of  mind 
and  the  development  of  reason  ;  for  it  is  thought,  rea- 
son, design,  that  links  us  to  God.  The  wider  and  higher 
our  thought  extends  and  rises,  the  nearer  w^e  approach 
the  throne  of  Deity.  By  thought  I  do  not  mean  vivid 
imagination  merely,  soaring  fancy  and  the  like  ;  but 
also  sure-footed  wisdom  whose  ascent  is  not  only  ^osi- 
tive,  but  surmounts  the  loftiest  ideality. 

Thought  is  the  true  Jacob's  ladder.  By  it  alone, 
by  the  steps  it  affords,  we  may  hope  to  reach  heaven. 

Nor  let  any  one  in  malice  suggest  that  I  forget  the 
moral  law  ;  for  I  have  shown  and  will  ever  contend, 
that  Eaith,  Hope,  and  Charity,  (in  that  w^hich  makes 
them  more  and  other  than  Instinct,  Desire,  and  Sym- 
pathy,) are  due  to  thought ;  exist  only  through  man's 
rational  powers.  Take  reason  away,  and  a  brute  inca- 
pable of  virtue  or  merit  remains  ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  certain  that,  as  the  light  of  knowledge  and 
the  power  of  reason  prevail  in  society,  so  do  peace, 
order,  and  love  have  sway.  This  is  so  because  thought, 
mind,  or  reason  alone  can  disclose,  and  hence  bring  us 
to — 1°,  consciously  experience ;  2^,  understand ;  and  3°, 
cherish  the  good,  truth,  and  beauty  of  social  love  and 
harmony.  Without  reason  man  is  simply  gregarious^  a 
hating  and  envious,  or  to  say  the  least,  a  careless  denizen 
of  society ;  but  when  reason  illumines  the  gregarious 
feeling,  this  feeling  becomes,  in  the  rational  light  with- 
in us,  the  reign  of  God  over  his  children,  the  fraternity 


352  HUMANICS. 

of  immortal  souls,  the  triumpli  of  perfect  liberty,  and 
the  empire  of  universal  equality. 

I  am  satisfied  that  religion  may  safely  relieve  her- 
self of  bigoted  and  dogmatic  influences,  to  make 
emancipated  and  fearless  reason  her  bosom  Compan- 
ion. 


EETEOSPECT. 


I  HAVE  had  my  say,  and  have  tried  to  present  a 
synoptical  view  of  the  complex  and  intricate  constitu- 
tion of  man.  With  one  retrospective  glance,  I  now  bid 
the  reader  adieu. 

I. 

1.  Man  is  truly  a  microcosm  of  the  Universe.  He 
comprises  the  material  and  the  ethereal ;  for  while  he 
asserts  a  spiritual  essence,  his  body  is  composed  of 
earthy  materials,  which  are  borrowed  from  inorganic 
nature,  to  constitute  a  Yital  organism. 

2.  Man's  Vitality  presents  the  same  phenomena, 
and  fulfils  the  same  functions,  as  the  Vitality  of  Vege- 
tation. 

3.  The  correspondence  of  the  functional  organism 

of  man  with  that  of  plants,  embraces  a  multitude  of 

particulars  too  generally  overlooked,  or  thoughtlessly 

regarded  as  animal. 
23 


354  HUMANICS. 


II. 


Animality  in  man  embraces  several  phases  ;  viz.  : 

1.  Instinct^  which  corresponds  with  the  functional 
action  of  plants,  and  the  mechanical  movement  of 
sympathetic  nerves. 

2.  Sensation^  which  is  the  passive  sensibility  of  the 
nerves  of  external  sense. 

3.  Emotion^  which  is  the  direct  action  of  symj^a- 
thetic  nerves  upon  internal  feeling,  or  the  reaction  of 
the  sensuous  upon  the  motor  nerves. 

4.  Imjpressibility^  or  the  "  concrete  image,"  or  un- 
divided picture  of  entire  impressions  received  by  the 
cerebrum,  and  furnishing  the  knowledge  of  qualities  and 
facts ;  the  objective  materials  of  thought  apart  from  all 
quantitative  ideas. 

5.  Memory^  which  recalls  past  impressions  and 
emotions. 

6.  Locomotion^  enabling  animals  to  obey  (in  a  great 
variety  of  ways)  the  direct  irtvpulses  of  instinct,  and 
the  proximate  attractions  and  repulsions  of  feeling. 

III. 

1.  In  the  possibility  of  this  variety  of  action  through 
the  passive  subjection  of  the  organism  to  many  purely 
sensational  and  animal  influences  and  guides,  we  find 
a  sufficient  explanation  of  the  acts  of  brutes  beyond 
the  apparent  limits  of  instinct ;  and  we  are  enabled  to 


KETROSPECT.  355 

understand  how  the  animal  which  receives  proximate 
impressions  and  feels  primitive  emotions,  acts  automa- 
tically^ and  is  always  either  drawn  or  driven  by  mere 
feeling  aided  by  mere  perception. 

2.  But  in  man,  all  the  primary  feelings  and  emotions 
are  interfered  with  by  thought  or  reason,  which  by 
intermixtm*e  with  the  animal  desires  and  affections, 
converts  them  into  the  higher  sentiments  : — the  love  of 
Truth,  Beauty,  Morality,  and  Utility,  while  it  imparts 
the  boon  of  Liberty. 

3.  Up  to  the  limit  of  passive  faculties  man  is  the 
puppet  of  necessity — the  mere  tool  of  sensuality  and 
egotism  ;  but  beyond  the  passive  or  animal  elements  of 
his  organism,  man  is  the  ruler  of  his  members  and  the 
fit  ao:ent  of  social  feelins:  and  social  order. 


lY. 

1.  Man  thus  rises  to  Society  and  Freedom,  because, 
within  the  world  of  mind,  and  distinct  from  matter, 
there  is  an  ACTIVE  and  initial  principle  which  acts 
upon  the  materials  and  contents,  qualities  and  facts 
furnished  by  the  instincts,  senses,  and  emotions. 

It  is  this  active  principle  which  Locke  (after  trying 
to  prove  that  there  were  no  innate  ideas)  finally  recog- 
nizes (B.  2,  C.  12,  §§  1  and  2)  as  a  "  power  of  the  mind 
to  make  new  complex  ideas  " — ''infinitely  beyond  what 
sensation  or  reflection  furnished  it  with."  This  is  the 
active  principle  which  Hume  (while  trying  to  reduce 


356  HUMANICS. 

all  mental  plienomena  to  sensuous  impressions,  present 
or  remembered)  is  obliged  to  do  homage  to,  as  "  the 
liberty  of  the  imagination  to  transpose  and  change  its 
ideas."  "  Nothing,"  says  he  in  his  Inquiry,  Sec.  Y., 
Part  2,  "  is  more  free  than  the  imagination  of  man  ; 
and  though  it  cannot  exceed  the  original  stock  of  ideas 
furnished  by  the  mternal  and  6',Tternal  senses,  it  has 
unlimited  power  of  mixing,  compounding,  separating, 
and  dividing  these  ideas,  in  all  the  varieties  of  fiction 
and  vision."  "  Its  effects,"  says  he  in  his  Treatise,  Sec. 
IV.  and  YIL,  "  are  everywhere  conspicuous ;  but  as  to 
its  causes  they  are  mostly  unknown,  and  must  be  re- 
solved into  original  qualities  of  human  nature  which  I 
jyretend  not  to  explain."  "  It  is  a  magical  faculty  of 
the  soul," — "  inexplicable  by  the  utmost  efforts  of  the 
human  understanding."  It  is  this  magical  and  active 
principle,  which  Condillac  calls  to  his  aid  to  animate 
his  statue,  and  designates  as  "  the  mind's  transformation 
of  itself  and  of  its  own  ideas  ; "  but  Condillac  never  stops 
to  show  the  possibility  of  this  transforming  process, 
without  an  adequate  and  specific  quality  ©r  force,  to 
produce  the  effect.  It  is  this  active  principle  which 
many  other  philosophers  have  noticed ;  but  since  Locke, 
Hume,  and  Condillac  are  the  beginning,  middle,  and 
end  of  modern  sensationalism,  I  have  preferred  to  cite 
them  as  my  witnesses  against  their  own  one-legged 
philosophy. 

2.  Hence   I   have  separated   the   active   principle 
from  the  passive,  proclaimed  the  non-identity  of  thought 


RETROSPECT.  357 

and  sensation,  of  subject  and  object,  and  have  held  them 
to  be  distinct  things  having  a  common  focus,  in  con- 
sciousness. 

(Without  this  duality  and  this  common  focus,  hu- 
man nature  is  wholly  inexplicable  ;  since  nothing  can 
feel  itself,  or  move  itself,  or  lift  itself,  or  see  itself,  or 
know  itself  by  means  of  itself  alone ;  for  we  are  all 
aware,  that  the  nerves  and  brain  do  not  feel  themselves 
but  feel  all  other  tilings — that  the  body  "will  not  go  " 
if  motive  force  is  not  supplied  in  food — that  inertia  is 
only  overcome  by  the  action  of  some  distinct  and  other 
force — that  the  eye  cannot  see  itself,  the  mirror  cannot 
reflect  itself;  and  finally,  that  consciousness  does  not 
know  itself,  but  what  it  does  know  are  the  impressions 
of  the  objective  world  on  the  one  side,  and  the  dictates 
and  movement  of  the  thinking  archeus  on  the  other.) 

3.  The  procedure  of  this  thinking  archeus  I  have 
identified  with  the  ideation  of  the  unit,  and  the  conse- 
quent LAWS  OF  NUMBEK ;  for  if  the  jDrocess  of  thought 
cannot  begin  without  a  quantitative  term  of  compari- 
son, or,  in  other  words,  without  the  unit ;  and  if  a  term 
of  comparison,  whatever  it  may  be,  must  be  dealt  with 
as  a  unit,  then  number  and  its  laws  are  indeed  the 
beginning  and  elements  of  tJie  thinking  process. 


V. 

1.  With  what  success  I  have  traced  thought  back 
to  the  first  principle  and  law  of  number,  I  leave  the 


358  HUMANICS. 

reader  to  judge ;  and  I  call  upon  philosophers  to  find,  if 
possible,  a  better  demonstration  of  the  nature  of  the 
active  principle  of  the  human  mind.  This  much,  how- 
ever, is  certain,  that  the  force  of  this  active  principle 
(coming  from  the  sj)here  of  eternal  order  and  dwelling 
in  man)  constitutes  the  essential  distinction  betw^een 
men  and  brutes ;  and  sets  the  distinctive  mark  on  man, 
as  man. 

2.  With  this  active  archeus  or  causative  force  of 
mind,  Science  becomes  possible ;  and  man  understands 
ISTature,  Self,  Society,  Spirit,  and  God  ;  and  is  capable 
of  free  artistic,  economical,  political,  ethical,  and  re- 
ligious action. 

Freedom  and  inventiveness  are  essential  marks  of 
thought. 

3.  And  one  thing  more  is  certain,  that  no  bodily 
root  or  organ  can  be  assigned  to  this  active  principle 
which  we  must  recognize  as  the  only  image  of  God 
within  us ;  for  it  is  (as  he  is)  spiritual  and  rational, 
and  it  may  be  denominated  the  finite  type  of  the  in- 
finite and  eternal  archetype  of  wisdom  and  power  which 
controls  the  Universe. 


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tion ;  a  booh  to  be  read  noio  for  amusement,  and  to  be  sought  hereafter  for 
reference.^'' — London  Athen^um. 

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to  so  great  a  treat  as  this  fascinating  collection  of  zoit,  anecdote  and  gossip. 
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itill  extant.'"— Lo^'TDO'S  Daily  News. 

Onward  ;   or,  The  Mountain  Clamberers.     A  Tale  of 

Progress.     By  Jane  Anne  WiNsco\r.  1  vol.     12mo.     15  ceuts, 

contents. — looking  upwards  ;  colin  and  jeanie ;  thr  family  at  alletne ; 
offI   off!   and  away;   endeavof.ing ;    edwakd   aenold;    pook,   yet    noble: 

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seunion;  summer  days;  the  fading  flower;  the  unexpected  arrival, 
4  wedding  day;  the  mountain-tops  appearing;  hastening  on:  ths  sibc'i 
v4ktvdat  ;  the  8um.mit  gained. 


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*ftnmd'ible  under 
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the  war-song  and  rural  hymn,  whose  cadences  are  as  remembered  music,  and 
the  coupUts  whose  chime  rings  out  from  the  depths  of  the  heart  /  whatever 
the  old  English  dramatists,  the  ode  write?'?  of  the  reign  of  Anne  and  Charles, 
the  purest  disciples  of  heroic  verse,  the  Lakists,  the  Byronic  school — 
Wordsworth  and  Dry  den,  Mrs.  Hemans  and  Scott,  Shakspeare  and  Hartley 
Coleridge  have  made  precious  to  soul  and,  sense,  are  herein  brought  together ; 
and  more  than  this — tJie  many  isolated  single  notes,  whose  Ungerin{f  harmony 
embahns  their  a/uthor'^s  name,  with  the  numerous  fugitive  '•'■brilliants,^'' 
heretofore  of  unknown  pareiitage,  cut  from  newspapers  for  the  last  hal* 
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jlaMns  on  a  lower  shelf  within  ai^nCs  length,  in  the  most  select  library. ''^-^ 
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origin  (so  to  speaJc)  of  the  orgajiic  structures  in  the  animal  kingdom,  he 
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thorough  instruction  Oii  the  subjects  discussed,  rather  than  embrace  the  whoU 
field  o)'  physiology ,  and,  for  want  of  space,  fail  to  do  justice  to  any  part  of 
'{^."—Extract  from  Preface. 

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Ao  scientific  subject  can  be  so  impoiiant  to  Man  as  that  of  his  own  Life. 
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as  the  knoicledge  of  the  processes  by  which  he  lives  and  acts.  At  every 
moment  he  is  in  danger  of  disobeying  lazes  which,  when  disobeyed,  may  bring 
years  of  suffering,  decline  of  powers,  premature  deecuj.  Sanitary  reformer) 
preach  in  rain,  because  they  preach  to  a  public  which  doesnot  understand  the 
laiosoflife — laws  as  rigorous  as  those  of  Gravitation  or  Motion.  Even  the 
sad  experience  of  others  yields  tis  no  lessons^  unless  ive  understand  the  prin- 
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seen  to  endure  it  tvithovt  apparent  harm ;  a  third  concludes  that  '■'■it  is  ali 
:hance,^^  and  trusts  to  that  chance.  Had  he  understood  the  principle  i?ivolvea, 
\e  would  not  have  been  left  to  chance — his  first  lesson  in  swimming  tvould  twt 
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writes  h,  in  its  abundance  and  variety  of  tragic  and  comic  z/ps-and-aowns, 
as  good  as  a  play.  His  experiences  pariooh  of  all  the  quich  changes  and  bois- 
terous bustle,  and  rxide  humor  of  an  old  English  fair  ;  and  a.s  they  are  pre- 
sented in  this  volume  they  afford  a  picture  of  the  times  he  lived  and  inc«»- 
santly  moved  in,  which,  in  rnuch  of  its  bold  handling,  is  not  to  be  surpassed, 
by  less  spirited  pencils  than  those  of  Fielding  and  Be  Foe.  The  moral,  even 
as  you  trace  it  through  the  hustling  table  of  contents,  is  of  unmistakable  ap- 
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shoemaker,  a  soldier,  an  actor,  a  saibr,  'a  publican,  a  billiard-room  keeper,  a 
Town  Councillor,  and  an  author,  Mr.  Broicn  has  seen  the  world  for  sixty 
ye4irs,  and  he  unhesitatingly  describes  all  that  he  has  seen,  with  fidelity  <^ 
^ikemory  and  straightforward  simplicity  of  style.'''' 


14  DAY  USE 


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